I hate having you impose limitations on me. I want to decide how I’m defined; let me learn what my limits are. we allow children to have aspirations that may seem ridiculous, yet I am told there are some things I cannot ever dream of becoming. the fact is, though you say I’m just a young woman, I am other things as well. fascinating things you never imagined for me. let me share with you just one aspect of what I am. let me tell you about my life as a monolith.
from merriam-webster online:
mono·lith, n. [mä-n&l-“ith]
1 : a single great stone often in the form of an obelisk or column
2 : a massive structure
3 : an organized whole that acts as a single unified powerful or influential force
[etymology: french monolithe, from monolithe consisting of a single stone, from latin monolithus, from greek monolithos, from mon– + lithos stone]
to this I add my own definition, based primarily on my knowledge of uluru, also known as ayers rock. this magnificent monolith is, obviously, quite ancient. anyone who has seen pictures can attest to the brilliant changes in the color of the rock depending on the time of day, weather, etc. and anyone who has visited uluru knows there is something about it — nothing you could put in a dictionary, or even into words — that speaks.
well, how does that apply to me? it’s simple. though there is something about me constant, ancient, unchanging — you could call it my soul — I will always be slightly different from day to day, moment to moment. never the exact same color twice. but to really experience those colors takes time. it would be impossible for you to understand me by superficial, detached conversations, no matter how much you appreciated or admired me. once we’ve deepened, though, you’ll see those things you never imagined for me, and there won’t be words. you’ll see past my outside to how vast and massive my soul is, the imposing monolith. maybe then you’ll start to recognize similar traits in yourself, traits we all have in common.
then you can tell me about your life as a monolith.
© 2005 m.m. lewis