Fight the Inertia

Today’s battle for me is like every day’s battle. The clash is over which will prevail in my life the inspired or the mundane. As I sit before the computer screen and type I am listening to music from thirty years ago. The music is really just aural wallpaper. What I am actually listening to is the washing machine in the next room. When will it make the click that marks the end of its last cycle? At that signal I can start the current load drying. I wasn’t planning on doing laundry today, but when I saw the dirty clothes basket half full the act of dropping a load in and then adding detergent was almost second nature. Almost an automaton with me as the machine, my acts were simply following the prime directive of the household protocols. This falling into the routine of day to day life, vaguely comforted by the musical joys of the past, is the mundane.

While the aged songs sooth me as I go about my robotic tasks, the music tells me nothing new. It isn’t invigorating. As I await the next part of the laundry cycle I have been searching arcane spots on the internet for wisdom. I am specifically searching for quotes to jog me out of complacency and into some higher plain of thought.

The first quote I have come upon is from an author I read in college, Annie Dillard. Ms. Dillard, the daughter of a well to do middle class family, unexpectedly found her mental focus aimed inward in deep spiritual contemplation. Living alone for four years in an isolated sylvan cottage she contemplated the meaning of all existence. I kind of believe that there must be at least one catalytic event to drive such introspection. The moment when Ms. Dillard’s soul, if that is what we want to call it became open to this exploration occurred after a near fatal bout of pneumonia.
While on first blush the Dillard quote seems a bit cutesy, as I sit listening to the thunk, whappa, whappa, thunk, whappa, whappa rhythm of the washing machine (drowning out Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of the Moon,) upon deeper reflection it seems like it really means something.

Spend the afternoon. You can't take it with you. ~Annie Dillard

There have been a few afternoons in my life that have been spent well. They are precious currency in the mental purse holding the most dear of my valued treasures. In addition there have been a few days of my life that have been spent well from start to finish. These days, marked in the passing arc of sun from my waking moment to my taking leave of conscious as I laid down in darkness, stand out as beacons of the exquisite pageant of life. An afternoon spent trying to steer a luge with my feet in subzero weather down more than a mile of Norwegian countryside is one prime example. Why haven’t there been so many more?

I think I have let the mundane deter me from a mental focus on the questions that matter, and most particularly from those inquiries as to life, love and meaning. Each day I think of the things to get done before I can enjoy myself. The list starts out short but grows. And grows and grows. Eventually the list overcomes the day, the weekend and the week. Somewhere I have the lost the few hours I mentally allocated to myself to be me and to think and focus. This leads me to the second quote.

For a long time it had seemed to me that life was about to begin - real life. But there was always some obstacle in the way. Something to be got through first, some unfinished business, time still to be served, a debt to be paid. Then life would begin. At last it dawned on me that these obstacles were my life. ~Fr. Alfred D'Souza

On each of these quotes I tried to find out something about the author. Annie Dillard was easy. Americans are navel gazers when it comes to their writers. Do a Google search and you will find an infinite amount of biography and commentary on Ms. Dillard. Mr. D’Souza proved much more difficult.

Everywhere I went I found fragments of e-mails between what seemed to be members of some kind of “community” posted to each other. What mentions made of the man were mere fragments of facts, things akin to a note between colleagues that D’Souza had spoken a conference or had been talked to when someone had met him traveling. But there was no real detail that came out as to his life. The closest I came was the following letter/eulogy. Funny thing about this search, it seems that the transcendent quote offered above came from a real person who lived life as we all do.
A TRIBUTE TO ALFRED VINCENT D'SOUZA

BORN 09-07-1959
DIED 04-04-2006

ALFRED VINCENT D'SOUZA, son of Joan and Late Eddie D'Souza, loving
husband of Lynette, Darling father of Shawna, Conroy and Annika, B/BIL
of Late Eric, Clare/Blaise.
When I think of Alfie today, oddly enough, I don't think of him as an acquaintance but a very dear friend who loved his family, friends, reading, singing, food and drink, to sum it all, he loved Life.
I have known Alfred since 1970, when we both studied at St. Britto's High School in Mapuca, Goa. In school, he was brilliant, very good in elocution and singing. I especially remember him for reciting 'Mark Anthony's speech at Ceaser's funeral'.

When that the poor have cried, Caesar hath wept:
Ambition should be made of sterner stuff:
Yet Brutus says he was ambitious;
And Brutus is an honorable man.
You all did see that on the Lupercal
I thrice presented him a kingly crown,
Which he did thrice refuse: was this ambition?
Yet Brutus says he was ambitious;
And, sure, he is an honorable man.
I speak not to disprove what Brutus spoke,
But here I am to speak what I do know.
You all did love him once, not without cause:
What cause withholds you then, to mourn for him?
O judgment! Thou art fled to brutish beasts,
And men have lost their reason. Bear with me;
My heart is in the coffin there with Caesar,
And I must pause till it come back to me.

He along with Alex Braganza and others started the 9th Dimension band when in school and went on to win a second place at the then famous Simla Beat Contest. He also represented the school in Hockey. During my school days, I would cycle all the way from Ucassaim to Saligao to meet Alfie and other friends.
Both of us passed out from School in June 1975. We were the first batch of the newly introduced 10 + 2 system. While most others continued to pursue their higher studies in Goa, we came to Bombay to study the famous Radio Officers' course. Ever since then, we have lived together away from our families and that is how we grew up together till the time we got married ( I was the Best Man at his wedding) when each went his way to begin our new lives. However, we always kept in touch and our families grew fond of each other.
We were known as 'Three Musketeers', Alfred, Maxwell & I. We would often meet and party till the wee hours of the morning. Alfred also ensured we kept in touch with our school mates. Alfred, Sisino, Alex, Savio, Maxwell, Dr. George and the rest would regularly get together proudly calling ourselves the "Class of 75" with our teacher Sir Gomes (Bonjour) joining in at times. A few months back Alfred, Sisino, Alex & I sat by the riverside of the Ucassaim Mansher and sipped beer remembering our good old school days.
Alfred joined ONGC and me, Airport Authority. Since he had to fly when ever he joined duty or when he went home after a 15 day schedule on the rigs, he made it a point to visit me. If time permitted we would sit with all our friends especially Augustine, Robert, Altino and Carl at the Wellingdon Gymkhana, Santacruz.
Alfred was very well read and could discuss any topic under the sun. He put to shame many a learned academician with his vast knowledge. During his spare time he would complete the Times of India crossword. He loved to read P. G. Woodhouse and has a collection at home. He was also a good musician who would sing and play the guitar. He never strummed but plucked while playing the guitar with his favorite 'Simon & Garfunkle numbers. He religiously exercised; many in Saligao will remember him jogging miles together.
Alfred and I have played all sorts of pranks together, pranks that we are proud of and keep narrating these to our families who burst out with laughter. There were times we undertook a motor bike journey from Bombay to Goa with a sense of adventure. One can't forget those ship journeys back home also.
On Wednesday March 29, 2006 Alfred and I had lunch together in my office. I went to see him off on his flight to Goa, that's when he mentioned he was experiencing a peculiar pain when exercising and said, would go for a check during his stay in Goa. I too, knowing Alfred's excellent health took it lightly only to be shocked when Blaise called to inform me that Alfred suffered a massive heart attack and passed away.
Today, when I think of Alfred, I think of all the good times we had together. He was very meticulous in what ever he did. If what I am today, I owe part of it to Alfred. I believe he is not dead but has only gone to a better place where he is watching over us. I don't think we should mourn, but continue life the way he liked it. He was God's gift to all of us, and now God has decided to take him back.
We all must rally round his family and give Lynette, Shawna, Conroy and Annika all the encouragement to continue the good work that Alfred had begun.
Fernando Couto


Clearly D’Souza was just a person. Clearly he goofed around. But he also read and immersed himself into his life. And from those things he came up with this insightful comment. I have no context for the comment however, whether it was presented in a speech or a paper or whether it arose in conversation. Was it a throw away comment made at dinner one night in a restaurant in London or was it meant to convey the gravity of existence to graduating students? I don’t know and I probably will never know, but I do know that as I stop to move the laundry it seems quite real and very meaningful.

The implication I draw from D’Souza is that the mundane must not be allowed to stand in the way of life. Each day must be taken in balance knowing the run of the mill is always ready to mire us, to ensnare us and take us away from the loftier things we should be focused on. A clear mind must make time for free and active thought not tied to the next trip to Megamart or when the next soccer practice is. But living is also not in the abstract, clear thought should direct what we do each and every day in the choices we make.

I will have more to write the next quote, but right now I must stop writing for the evening. But the next quote just seems perfect for my life. I still find each day too short for all the thoughts I want to think, all the walks I want to take, all the books I want to read and all the friends I want to see. ~John Burroughs, an American naturalist and philosopher.