Wednesday, August 11, 2010

The God that Looks Ahead and Behind

I'm veering way off topic in this post as the only connection it has to downtown is that I live downtown and sit perched in my little condo by the river as I write this. This blog is not about personal introspection or my deepest thoughts or feelings and I ordinarily write only about what's new or cool downtown. So forgive me as I indulge in a rare personal post, vague as it may be.

I was always fascinated with mythology when I was a child. I spent lots of time at my grandparents house and for some inexplicable reason they had a book about Greek mythology. I poured over it a thousand times, the classical portraits of the characters cemented the myths in my mind. I loved to look at the illustrations by the dim light from the nightstand lamp. The old clock on the dresser had an audible second hand which was a figure of a girl on a swing that ticked- ticked-ticked the seconds off with each swing back and forth as I read. My favorite myths were Tantalus, who was never allowed to drink from the water in which he stood or to have a bite of low hung fruit above his head, Medusa with a tangle of snakes for hair and Pandora who out of curiosity opened her box and let evil out into the world and when she closed it again only Hope remained inside.

Then much later I learned about the Roman god called Janus for whom the month of January is named. Janus is intriguing to me because he has two heads, one that looks to the past and one that looks to the future. He is the god of doors, beginnings and endings. 2010 has been my Janus year. Many doors have closed and others have opened. Two and a half years ago when I started this blog I had the feeling of being on a precipice, that things were about to change. I was right as only a few days later I had a tangible change in my life but in an unexpected form. How monumental it would later become was unknown to me at the time. Doors are still opening and closing, I still have the clock and I'm still looking ahead and behind.

2 comments:

Sparkling Like A Diamond said...

I never saw that book you speak of. Very interesting. Love this clock. I used to stare at it all the time. I remember a time when it did not work and would make the girl swing anyway.

Here's to your "change".

Michelle said...

I'm pretty sure it was one of Mom's books from college that just ended up sticking around.