A Recent History of the Future

How Will You Live Now? *

I am playing a game with the sunrise. I’ve been beating it for seven years. I’m not at all competitive, so it feels wrong to say that I “beat” the morning sun. Perhaps I should say that I wake up before the sun let’s me see it. That would be more accurate. If accuracy is what I desire. And I don’t desire it. Much. People who know me will tell you that I am a healthy person—mentally. Except I have my little quirks. The quirks are not about accuracy; they are about placement. And of course this makes sense, doesn’t it? That someone who has a history of displacement would be a little obsessed with the way things are placed. And so there is a place for the spice jars. And there is place for the books on the shelves. And there is a place for the folded clothes in the dresser. And there are two acres of land on which the house is placed. And there is a river behind it. And there is a mountain in front of it. And there is a car in the drive. And there is a seat in the car. And there is a place for me in the seat of that car. And the sun has risen over the mountain. And the engine has been running for five minutes. And I get inside the car. And it is warm inside. And this is how I live.

Here’s what I didn’t tell you: The beloved wakes me with a hot drink. The beloved reads to me. The beloved moves the spice jars out of order to tease me. The beloved built the bookshelves. The beloved tends to the two acres of land. The beloved rescued the home when the river broke its banks. The beloved taught me to notice the sun coming up over the mountain. The beloved turns on the engine five minutes before I leave the house so that I can get into a warm car. This is how I live now.

* This question comes from Bhanu Kapil’s book The Vertical Interrogation of Strangers (Kelsey St. Press, 2001) The book is structured around the responses to twelve questions. Bhanu encouraged me to give responding a try. And so I am.