Learning Greek feels like an important, proper sort of thing to be doing

Learning Greek feels like an important, proper sort of thing to be doing for someone who is bent toward classical education. I guess what I mean is not necessarily learning the classics, but learning something that was once bread and butter for most grammar school students, or perhaps students in higher ed. Getting out of college without touching Greek and Latin was unthinkable. Sometimes, it feels like I learned Greek in a recent past life, and wrote all these declensions down on notebook paper instead of typing them out on the computer. I’ve had a few moments like this in other classes–like I attended grad school, possibly seminary in the 60s or 70s, and took notes on similar subjects in similar classes.

I have an uneasy relationship with technology. I use it extensively, but generally on my own terms. A part of me longs to sit at a study desk and take notes by hand, crib them together in a handwritten, long form rough draft and then finally type them out on a typewriter. There is something lost when the act of shaping one’s thoughts and molding them becomes completely digital. I don’t think I could completely go back to a world before computers, but then again, I might feel more comfortable among people who expect communication to move at a slower pace.

Writing Greek on the chalk board felt more correct and proper than all of this typing, cutting and pasting and moving accented letters in and out of words. It’s almost as if these words that I am presently typing somehow aren’t as alive as the written ones. Or, my flesh, blood and spirit makes its way into ink and chalk but not into pixels, or even dry erase markers.

I can’t say, though, that I am growing especially fond of or attached to Greek. I think that I appreciate having the ability to read it, and get the gist of a lot more of it, but I am burnt out at this point on getting excited about a language only to discover that I am only going to be mediocre at it, as always. I’m still mildly hoping that the last prospective employer I talked to will call me back, and I’ll just go back to doing what I was doing before.

I sort of feel like a ship that sailed into a crowded harbor and there was no room to drop anchor and dock. And so, I’ve been drifting ever since. I still pass by some of the ships that were in the harbor with me, and it still sort of feels like we are all sailing in the same direction, but they know they have a safe harbor waiting for them at any time when they need it, and I don’t.

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