Yes, I know; I’ve been going on and on about the New Media course I’m taking–would your rather hear about Statistics? I am evidently a person of the moment, wolfing down what is served at the dinner table, embracing the chef to wheedle out the recipe, returning yet again an hour earlier every day with knife and fork in hand, gluttonous and greedy.
But as I’ve said before, the process of the learning goes beyond the main course. The appetizer just prepares one’s palate for the meat. There are the residuals of calories that last with one in layers built up within the body, sometimes with luck burned off in energy spent in greater things. The carbs provide the sugar highs that push us further into exploration that we might have slept through had we not partaken of dessert.
The daily single meal of knowledge, then, stays with us forever; becomes a part of us that cannot be seen or separated out. Fulfilling at the hour of feeding, yet satisfying only for a space in time before the appetite returns to drive us back to sit and eat again.
Perhaps because the winter threatens, perhaps because what’s served is fine cuisine, but I find this: I’m very hungry.
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology