School and travel do not make a pretty pair. Often they conflict and steal time from each other as they vie for your sole attention. And, typical of love triangles, you can’t help but concentrate on one because you can’t have both at the same time. Alertness is imperative because sooner or later the ignored party starts to get back at you. If it’s not a low quiz score, it’s mould on a good book. I am one person who would hate to see either of these.
Recently I’ve been doing a lot of travelling. New places meant new experiences, and though they could also translate into cramming for the next day’s quiz, I hardly noticed because every moment I come from one trip, I immediately leave for another.
As of this writing I just arrived from a package-tour in England and Narnia, my second, arranged by C. S. Lewis in two books of the “Chronicles of Narnia.” I say, they were “rather jolly” trips. I was fortunate to walk with kings and queens and talk to them, suggesting strategies that, with their majesties’ undoubtedly masterful execution of course, could help defeat dreadful enemies. But how distressing it was that they seemed not to hear me, although in the end, they did defeat the White Witch and the treacherous Miraz.
Of course, I mustn’t forget the noble Aslan, the great lion-ruler of Narnia with a rich mane of pure gold, son of the Emperor across the great sea. Twice he let me ride on his back as he ran with the Dryads and fauns and the talking animals. A most wonderful fellow.
Before these trips to Narnia I was somewhere in Italy, travelling in monk’s robes on the back of an ass. My travel agent for this trip, “The Name of the Rose,” was Umberto Eco and his partner who happens to be my professor in the History of Modern Philosophy. They put on my itinerary a visit to a great abbey located at the top of a mountain. For my travel companions I had not royals but two monks, one a novice and the other his master.
This excursion was rather gruesome, for we had to encounter several bloody murders. Still, the mysterious deaths served as a fitting challenge for our willing faculties for investigation. The novice Adso’s curious and learning mind proved to be of great help, although at times his mistakes made William, his master, a bit cross. With great effort, I shouted warnings to them whenever they were in danger and threw ideas while they planned, but like in Narnia, I was inaudible to them.
The rest of the time, if I wasn’t vacationing in Maine with Stephen King, I was conversing with Pooh Bear and Piglet on ideas forwarded by the Tao Te Ching.
However, like I said, the ignored party might cry foul sooner or later. When I returned from Narnia, I noticed how my studies were reeling from the blows I kept delivering, thanks to my extra-curricular readings. Class hours have been sacrificed for numerous strolls through “Salem’s Lot” and the “Hundred-Acre Wood.” More than once, professors summoned me back inside the classroom while I was drinking tea with the High King at “Cair Paravel” or excavating an alien aircraft in the “Big Injun Woods.”
Those are not very good signs from the opposite camp. Think, think now, General. What are we to do in order to avoid an attack of C-pluses? This is no time for honey, silly old bear. Unless we do something, Mommy’s gonna reduce our provisions! Stop going away, stay put, and counterattack those B-minuses!
Well, perhaps I could use some rest, too. Although I have a whole shelf to travel through, study should also get some of my time. I will allot time for that entire shelf later, even bit by bit if I have to, if only to finish them all. On this part of the tightrope I must tip the bar a little lower on the side of study. Still, I must leave a little weight at the other end or else I might loss balance.
Wait. I have been going around the world and beyond, and yet I find my own land strange. Maybe I could contact local travel agents and book myself some short local flights instead. That way, I won’t have to go far, and I won’t have to stay away for so long. Leoncio Deriada’s “Nightmares” ought to be good for starters, and I’d still have much time for Aristotle’s influences on St. Thomas. Every now and then, I could slip into Mindanao with Jaime An-Lim and Christine Ortega, and still reserve time for the main principles of Japanese Shinto and Environmental Ethics.
It’s a precarious balance, I know. Anyone with mistresses or who is a double agent knows how difficult it is to make these frequent shifts.
Nevertheless, fellow double agents, fellow tightrope walkers, and fellow mistress-keepers, never lose sight of the other when you turn your attention to one. I myself will not completely abandon my wanderings for my studies.
And, well, these are certainly quite useful whenever you have absolutely no idea of what to write about.
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Oh, and one last thing. G’yem, before I forget, your one month has passed. So where’s my Acer?
