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Sep. 24th, 2003 05:17 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
danuvI was thinking today about how desperate so many people (not excluding myself in this) I know are to leave their mark here, to change something, to have some sort of impact, or at the very least (or the in some cases, more importantly) be different than other people around them. Special. Unique. I've talked about it before I'm sure. My posts are all the same things I've been saying for years now.
As I was pondering this perfectly pointless bit of knowledge, I started thinking about the stories I've been reading in the Appalachian folklore book I mentioned yesterday. Here were people who never really had any aspirations beyond feeding their families and carving out what comforts they could for them from the poverty of their surroundings. With the exception of one woman (who wanted to be a writer), they all lived the same sorts of lives that people had for generations there and were for the most part quite happy with them. There was no angsty soul searching about their place in the world. No yearning to change things. For the most part they were content to get up with the sun, bake their bread, tend their farms, work at the factories, or mine the coal mines. Now I'm certain that there were those who wanted more or were unsatisfied with the lives they led. There have been many musicians, artists, and writers to come from the mountains, but it seems to me from my perspective that on whole they seem much more content to live the lives that they were born to than my peers are.
I suppose though, that so few of us are really "born to" lives anymore. It's more like we're raised till 18 by our parents and then tossed out into a world of options to find our own path. Not that I have a problem with that.
Anyway, I had my black eyed peas, collard greens, and corn bread today and it was very very satisfying.
As I was pondering this perfectly pointless bit of knowledge, I started thinking about the stories I've been reading in the Appalachian folklore book I mentioned yesterday. Here were people who never really had any aspirations beyond feeding their families and carving out what comforts they could for them from the poverty of their surroundings. With the exception of one woman (who wanted to be a writer), they all lived the same sorts of lives that people had for generations there and were for the most part quite happy with them. There was no angsty soul searching about their place in the world. No yearning to change things. For the most part they were content to get up with the sun, bake their bread, tend their farms, work at the factories, or mine the coal mines. Now I'm certain that there were those who wanted more or were unsatisfied with the lives they led. There have been many musicians, artists, and writers to come from the mountains, but it seems to me from my perspective that on whole they seem much more content to live the lives that they were born to than my peers are.
I suppose though, that so few of us are really "born to" lives anymore. It's more like we're raised till 18 by our parents and then tossed out into a world of options to find our own path. Not that I have a problem with that.
Anyway, I had my black eyed peas, collard greens, and corn bread today and it was very very satisfying.
