American Author primarily of short essays
Robert Fulghum, fully Robert Lee Fulghum
American Author primarily of short essays
To get through this life and see it realistically poses a problem. There is a dark, evil, hopeless side to life that includes suffering, death, and ultimate oblivion as our earth falls into a dying sun. Nothing really matters. On the other hand, the best side of our humanity finds us determined to make life as meaningful as possible NOW; to defy our fate. Everything matters. Everything. It is easy to become immobilized between these two points of view - to see them both so clearly that one cannot decide what to be or do.
What I notice is that every adult or child I give a new set of Crayolas to goes a little funny. The kids smile, get a glazed look on their faces, pour the crayons out, and just look at them for a while....The adults always get the most wonderful kind of sheepish smile on their faces--a mixture of delight and nostalgia and silliness. And they immediately start telling you about all their experiences with Crayolas.
To insist on one's place in the scheme of things and to live up to that place. To empower others in their reaching for some place in the scheme of things. To do these things is to make fairy tales come true.
What we learn in kindergarten comes up again and again in our lives as long as we live. In far more complex, polysyllabic forms, to be sure. In lectures, encyclopedias, bibles, company rules, courts of law, sermons, and handbooks. Life will examine us continually to see if we have understood and have practiced what we were taught that first year of school.
To look this way is to see. To see is to have vision. To have vision is to understand. To understand is to know. To know is to become. To become is to live fully. To live fully is to matter. And to matter is to become light. And to become light is to be loved. And to be loved is to burn. And to burn is to exist. Off and on.
When my father finally got around to teaching me to drive, he was impressed at my "natural" talent for driving, not knowing that I had already been secretly driving my mother's car around the neighborhood. When I took the test and got my license and my father gave me my own set of keys to the car one night at dinner, it was a major rite of passage for him and my mother. Their perception of me had changed and was formally acknowledged. For me the occasion meant a private sanction to do in public what I had already been doing in secret.
To ponder is not to brood or grieve or even meditate. It is to wonder at a deep level.
When you go out into the world, it is best to hold hands and stick together.
To understand our love they'd have to turn the world upside down.
Whenever I speak in public I take photographs of the audience, print them up and look at them carefully. I want to see demographics ? age, sex, etc. ? but also create a mental image in my mind of those I write to. I've always had a quarrel with my editors and publishers over this. They talk about my readers as if they know ? but they don't ? they haven't been to see them ? I have.
Too much high-content information, and I get the existential willies. I keep sputtering out at intersections where life choices must be made and I either know too much or not enough. The examined life is no picnic.
Whenever life becomes Tinkertoys, the queen may be sacrificed.
Until you have experienced raccoons mating underneath your bedroom at three in the morning, you have missed one of life's sensational moments.
Wherever and however any one of us may be conceived, it is the same. We come into being in the arms of God.
Water is everywhere and in all living things - we cannot be separated from water. No water, no life. Period. Water comes in many forms - liquid, vapor, ice, snow, fog, rain, hail. But no matter the form, it's still water.
Why is love easy? I don?t know. And the raccoons don?t say.
We are the only creatures that both laugh and weep. I think it's because we are the only creatures that see the difference between the way things are and the way they might be.
Without realizing it, we fill important places in each other?s lives. It?s that way with the guy at the corner grocery, the mechanic at the local garage, the family doctor, teachers, neighbors, coworkers. Good people who are always there, who can be relied upon in small, important ways. People who teach us, bless us, encourage us, support us, uplift us in the dailiness of life. We never tell them. I don?t know why, but we don?t. And, of course, we fill that role ourselves. There are those who depend in us, watch us, learn from us, take from us. And we never know. You may never have proof of your importance, but you are more important than you think. There are always those who couldn?t do without you. The rub is that you don?t always know who.
We could learn a lot from crayons; some are sharp, some are pretty, some are dull, while others bright, some have weird names, but they all have learned to live together in the same box.
Yelling at living things does tend to kill the spirit in them. Sticks and stones may break our bones, but words will break our hearts.
We even make ourselves up, fusing what we are with what we wish into what we must become. I'm not sure why it must be so, but it is.
You are free to give life meaning, whatever meaning you want to give it.
We?re all a little weird. And life is a little weird. And when we find someone whose weirdness is compatible with ours, we join up with them and fall into mutually satisfying weirdness?and call it love?true love.
You can't always explain everything you do to everybody, you know.
Weddings seem to be magnets for mishap and for whatever craziness lurks in family closets. In more ways than one, weddings bring out the ding-dong on everybody involved.