Recently I saw a brief clip of Stephen Hawkins on television : he communicates from his largely impassive face through imperceptible movements in his cheek which somehow translate into computer speech. Literally he is an old man trapped in a wheel chair who can hardly smile and certainly cannot move a limb but he is rather more than that I suspect we might agree.
His is a powerful and original mind, but most of all he is a man of curiosity and a wonder which has transported him from the everyday, to look at things beyond his circumstances, and not within them. He still seems alive with an awe and insight, and even youth. Yes I’m sure he’d like to run and skip and dance as badly as I do, but his interest in the world around him, leaves him little time for a comparison of circumstances. It is easy to admire such a man
I read an article by an individual who began his address with the words, “I always wanted to be a winner” and that sounds fine in its own way, but judging myself by comparisons with my fellow-man has never held much attraction to me. I want to know what everything is, and what nothing is; the beauty of a note and the silence which surrounds it . I like to know and understand myself, and those whom I meet, or nearly meet. I am conscious that I will not always be conscious. That my curiosity is unlimited but my time is finite, and I cannot waste a moment of it in acquiring things which will not make me richer in a way I understand.
The amusing thing is many would consider me as living in la la land, where poetry is a secret form of currency, and music a mode of transport which might carry me to lands and vistas invisible to the naked eye. To where angels might dwell and we might begin to forgive and truly understand the love which passes all understanding. I can live with their opinion, but I cannot live without my imagination.