…“shape of my space”…..“on my face”….of a clarklike female. But what does that mean?
clarks find the hope in the darkness, hear the possibility in the chorus, the positivity in the minor chord.
As an Outsider, we’re often able to more quickly dispell the desire to belong than say, our rogerian brethern. Oftentimes this brings relief. When we stop caring. For real. (not the pretend not caring. that’s something else altogether). Because in the end nothing matters. “Nothing else matters”. Thank you James.
What does matter is remembering that life can end in literally the blink of an eye. I can be going to the library in the early afternoon with my mom. Driving 6 short miles or so to town on a pleasant September day. Clouds teasing, playing hide n seek like carefree children. Sun shining September back to school light, the seasonal dimmer switch having been turned a half notch towards fall. Both of us clueless, that in mere hours her life would end.
There was only on street parking at the East Greenwich Library. It was “up the hill” in the old part of town. The streets were narrow. Sometimes it took a couple block go rounds before we found a space. After parking, usually not too far down from the church across the street, we’d walk, mother and daughter. Towards the building that held wonder and travel, excitement and escape. To the place of books. A place we’d go together every week since I could remember. In retrospect, not a bad last day.
What I didn’t know then was that we were both clarks. Now it makes perfect sense to me. Now that I know the Wakefield Doctrine aka the theory of clarks, scotts and rogers. I understand. (for clarks it is about the “understanding”. it’s about the rational). We could talk to each other easily. By that I mean we could talk to one another from a place of understanding, sympatico if you will.
We knew on an instinctive level what the other was saying or meaning to say even without the perfect words. We understood what it was the other was implying or struggling to express. With clarks, it’s like a form of telepathy. Can’t explain it. Only with another clark can I not necessarily have to finish a sentence for my thoughts to be clear. Understood.
Last October I went to the “Library”. Life changed. Dramatically. Again. For you clarks that find yourselves at the end of this post, get outside. Of your head. There is much to be had in the here and now. Do not be afraid. Package the fear. Put it in a storage unit. What’s the worst that can happen? You die?