The Beginning

January 10, 2021

The second semester was when I fell in love with philosophy and the mind of a philosopher. Philosophy of Religion. The content challenged me, but it was the professor who undid me. Looking up from my front-row seat, I took in every detail of his face; angular, serious, kind. His quiet calm voice forced stillness to hear. His understated clothes invited intimacy and a longing for rest. His mannerisms behind the podium commanded respect, not through brute force or intimidation, but through the pleasure of playing with thought.
Every idea that left his mouth, every pause as he considered a response to our questions, chipped away at the fragile reality I had created for myself. I wanted to swallow all of his complexities and riddles and mysteries. The further we went, the more the balloon swelled until it finally burst and made a mess of certainty.