Deferred Gratification and Denial
As I sit here in time of COVID, I think of the places I wish to visit. As a geographer I’m always imagining visiting a new place and exploring its physical and cultural landscapes—It is what gives me pleasure and satisfies my curiosity. And this makes the constraints of the present time more difficult. I had to return from Pakistan before a trip to the northern part of the country. I had to cancel my trip to Savannah with two friends. I had to postpone my trip to drive down highway 1 in California. I’m wondering if my re-union trip to England will come about next summer. I have had to practice the discipline of living within the geographic constraints of the present and go with the flow of the uncertainty, frustrated at the denial of so many that continue to defy the guidelines that might allow us to manage our lives with some semblance of “normal” within the constraints imposed by the virus.
In the midst of this time, I’ve been thinking about a place that I did finally get to visit after three failed attempts—Falling Water, a house built by Frank Lloyd Wright. Three times I had come close to being able to visit but the timing of my travel schedule did not work with the schedule of its being open. And it is not really on the way to anywhere!
I finally was able to visit Falling Water when this became THE destination (along with other places in western Pennsylvania). I think I have always been interested in seeing the house because of its fit within its natural environment. When you visit and learn more you find out that while it is placed within the natural environment, the structure and architecture is not necessarily sustainable within the natural environment. The house has had to have major renovations over time to maintain it. While it visually fits within the landscape, the natural elements work against the structure. I’ve always wondered how Wright’s prairie-style houses with their flat roofs survive Midwestern winters snow… Wright’s aesthetic principles, rather than practicality or perhaps comfort, defined reality for him. The world was shaped to conform to his reality and a large and continuing renovation and maintenance budget is the result. Denial of the forces around you are expensive.
On this same trip we visited the crash site of Flight 93. The area is now a national monument with a interpretive center that bring back the stark memories of the day. As you walk through the moments that led to the crash of the flight, minutes by minute, reality cannot be ignored. The names of those who died, and the stories of the individuals they called from cell phones before they attacked the flight cabin, are there in front of you. Truly this was an example of facing reality straight in the face and making choices. I was also struck by how short our memory is in terms of asking the essential question that arose at that time: “Why do they hate us so much?” What happened to our willingness to look reality in its face at that moment in time and ask this question?
An ability to look reality in the face and not turn away is a discipline, whether it involves facing the constraints imposed by COVID 19 in the present, the natural forces of a house site, or understanding of others that arise out of historical and cultural contexts and experiences. Its antithesis is a life where you believe that you have total freedom, that you are always right, and that you alone are the hero of your own story—a denial of reality.
I will continue to strive to be a realist. I look at maps and imagine what places look like. And I wear my mask and social distance.