An Invitation

July 30th, 2010 § 53

Today I read this question:

Is there something better than more?

In so many ways, I feel like my year has been about living to find an answer to this query. But somedays, maybe most days, it feels like everything in our world and in my nature  is against me probing around the notion of more, or rather embracing the notion of less. Let me tell you, I fail continually at less, remaining afraid that on some cosmic level I’ll be trampled by the stampede of appetites running always after extra.

But it’s a profound question, isn’t it?

I invite you to search an answer with me. Because I can’t shake the hunch that our world, and Lord knows our country, would be a smidgen more sane if we had hearts bold enough to really ask this of ourselves.

Butterflies in the Belly

July 25th, 2010 § 53

In five days, I’ll be here presenting a paper I wrote on this.

I’m nervous. Really, really nervous.

Maybe it’s because I’m young or white or human. Or because I have a lot of cutting and editing to do in the next five days before I’m ready to give this paper.

Whatever the combination of things, that’s where my brain is landing today.

Summer School and Impending Acts of Subversion

July 23rd, 2010 § 45

I am a firm believer that there are times and places for things. This is what makes summer school the more obnoxious kind of oxymoron.

Seeing as I tend to find most things school-related uncannily  satisfying, I knew when I began devising cruel and unusual ways to destroy my courseware this summer, something had gone awry. I have a particularly severe brutishness reserved for Shakespeare’s Henry V. We can talk about it sometime.

The good news:

I completed my eight units of class this morning.

I’m still alive. And so is my courseware. I’m convinced this is a small miracle.

Now Sabbath time begins.

I’m going to read what I want, when I want, as little or as much as I want to. I’m going to eat cinnamon toast and write letters and people-watch at the beach. Maybe I’ll even manage a swimsuit (Lord help us all). I’m going to sit on the roof in the evenings and watch three-hour musicals in the afternoon and do nothing in the mornings and not feel the slightest bit bad about it.

Rest is a beautifully subversive act.

And summer calls for a healthy dose of subversion, I think.

What hit me afresh while the cream cheese was softening…

July 17th, 2010 § 59

Today I made red velvet cupcakes for my brother-in-law’s birthday.

I stopped, and it washed over me.

“Brother-in-law?”

I have a brother-in-law!

Hello new life stage. Nice to meet you.

Every so often Change brings about those sweet kind of shenanigans, doesn’t it?

Like baked goods for brothers-in-law.

Ha.

Beginning Again

July 10th, 2010 § 0

The sabbatical has ended. Just like that, I return to this large slice of the cyber-world pie. I still have a good many reservations, mind you, but I’m writing again in spite of them.

I resisted at first because I wanted some space to navigate a new season away from the loyal gaze of my Sea-Saw Diaries fan club (love you, though I do). The irony is, of course, that after six months of blog-less navigation, I find myself profoundly lost, and in desperate need of words to guide me somewhere familiar.

I have this deeply-embedded, semi-irrational fear that somehow blogging will awake the Ugly, Narcissistic Beast I know sleeps in a dark crevice of my being. I mean really, how terribly obsessed with yourself must you be to think that your thoughts, on any average day of the week, are a good thing to be publishing for the world at large to consume? That’s what the voice of my deeply-embedded, semi-irrational fear sounds like.

Only recently have I come to realize that the Ugly, Narcissistic Beast and my deeply-embedded, semi-irrational fear have been in cahoots all along. The antidote to this disturbing duo, I realize now, is to find and foster and cultivate my creative voice as best I know how. Because creative voices are always calling the bluffs of beastly things. And because articulation might just be the most powerful weapon I have in the fight against my fears, irrational and otherwise.

So it is I begin again.

Oh my words. I wait with eager anticipation to see where round two takes me.

Where am I?

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