Rendez-vous
Translation generated from large language model - read with caution
Like many who yearn for knowledge, I often lament having too many aspirations and too little time. Perhaps this mundane frustration, resembling futile self-reflection, rarely lingers in my mind – it brings no real benefit.
Today might be an exception:
I let this thought expand and explode in my mind, consuming all my attention. On this tranquil evening, I began examining its implications. Once again, I realized such contemplation breeds nothing but anxiety. Yet unlike before, I refuse to let this become needless overthinking – I decided to write it down.
To satisfy endless curiosity, I've attempted numerous pursuits. I tried composing music, only producing lifeless works and basic notation skills; translated subtitles for beloved courses before abandoning them due to time constraints; experimented with photography yet failed to capture stunning images (Though truth be told, I'm grateful to cosplayer friends who praised my convention photos). All these endeavors dissipated like sand through an hourglass, leaving neither remarkable achievements nor clear reasons for discontinuation. "Abandoned" isn't even accurate – I never consciously quit, yet rarely persisted. They simply faded into forgotten corners of my life.
"The first meeting of life remains most beautiful" – this familiar poem feels illusory to me. Looking back, I'm often startled by my initial indifference toward new pursuits. I wonder: did I truly dislike them, or was I simply inattentive? Perhaps neither explanation suffices.
I used to devote all energy to passionate interests while almost completely ignoring unrelated trivialities. Reaching this point through such childlike spontaneity feels miraculous. But when confronting life's serious responsibilities, this capriciousness becomes an obstacle, making me question whether I ever genuinely loved those pursuits.
As for passion? I'm grateful it persists – though diminished from childhood intensity – yet know I can't rely on it forever. These childish enthusiasms no longer dominate my existence, and I can't remain the child who depends solely on them. I must prepare before they vanish unexpectedly.
Thus I realized one imperative: I must document them. Overthinking while under-recording has made it increasingly hard to recall my passions and talents, even causing accidental forgetting of wonderful ideas and experiences – all things I refuse to lose again. Documentation could also benefit "less-loved" pursuits: proper records might motivate deeper understanding, while my cautious writing habit could aid contemplation and knowledge expansion.
There's a French word I've always cherished: Rendez-vous. While meaning "appointment," I prefer its literal interpretation: to present yourself – exactly what writing achieves. Interestingly, its English variant rendezvous holds special astronomical significance: celestial bodies meeting in cosmic dance (how prolonged and fortunate!). For an essay about passion, writing, and curiosity, no word fits better. I dedicate this to my enduring fervor and what I love.
Perhaps beginning with this