Thursday, May 03, 2012

Limited Thing

I am reading ``The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle,'' a novel by Haruki Murakami. In the middle of the novel, there is a very powerful story, it even seems out of place, and it hits some nerves in me. In some strange ways, I feel a familiarity with the core point of story which is encapsulated in this passage:

I happened to lose my life at one particular moment in time, and I have gone on living these forty years or more with my life lost. As a person who finds himself in such a position, I have come to think that life is a far more limited thing than those in the midst of its maelstrom realize. The light shines into the act of life for only the briefest moment---perhaps only a matter of seconds. Once it is gone and one has failed to grasp its offered revelation, there is no second chance. One may have to live the rest of one's life in hopeless depths of loneliness and remorse. In that twilight world, one can no longer look forward to anything. All that such a person holds in his hands is the withered corpse of what should have been. ---p. 209, The Wind-up Bird Chronicle

The core idea in this passage makes me uncomfortable. The issue is not that I believe it or not, but it is the fact that such an idea has been a force, hidden for a long time, behind my depression. Only recently I was able to recognize it, and for the past few weeks neutralize it, to some extent.

PS. This subject is much deeper than I first though. It is related to the thought experiment in [this quote] and also to one of my revelations, [Intense Moments].

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