783: That summer . . .
What a Piece of Work I Am, Chapter 70
70
THAT SUMMER I received a letter from Rangoon:
Dear Peter,
I’ve lost another pursuer, this one to sheer exhaustion, I think, and that leaves only two, so I think I’m nearing the end of this journey, but as the end approaches and I think of stopping somewhere at last, I’m afraid of relaxing, of letting myself get too comfortable, of taking the easy way out. That’s why I left my cozy home, got up and went, took to the road without a map, and why, as I’ve wandered, I have generally preferred the winding road, the riskier route, and haven’t allowed myself to plan too much. I’ve known from the start where I’m going, at least I’ve had a destination in mind, but I haven’t wanted to know exactly how I was going to get there, since, on the one hand, chance favors the prepared mind, but, on the other, serendipity brings some of the most magical pleasures of life. I have made it a point to talk to strangers, and to ask directions, and every now and then I have invited someone to tell me where to go, because at times I find that I want (and need) some surprise in my life. When my mother grew tired of her own cooking—and she sometimes did, as everyone does—she invited me to look into the spice cupboard and add a pinch of something to the chowder, anything, without telling her what it was or letting her see me add it to the pot. So, now and then I invite someone to suggest an excursion. I have taken as my model the course of the river Meander; you could say that I’ve been swimming the river Meander, or you could say that I’ve been wandering in the labyrinth, ambling, divagating, but now I am weary of wandering, and I’m beginning to think that the time is coming when I should wander somewhere to the sea and just stay put. Whenever I’ve thought of stopping, I’ve been afraid of sinking, but now I think I’ve found a model for living in one place: the clam. It rests there on the bottom and takes what comes its way, takes life as it comes, drinks life through its siphon, discards what doesn’t suit it, and makes a self out of anything that does.
Love, Ariane
[to be continued]
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