i flounder. am in search of something, though i can’t articulate it enough to recognize it. maybe words aren’t the answer. i try to identify what interests me . . .
i grab books and look there. i go on walks with eyes open (and usually find the most interesting things when i’ve gone off and left my camera).
a very good friend, somebody i have never met but know at that deep, satisfying level of connection (thanks, acey) reminded me this morning that when we don’t listen to ourselves, that wise voice dries up. is mine drying up? is it giving me one last beckon?
i long to jump into something. need to settle down. want instant gratification. crave something that develops and unfolds over time.
i think i don’t move enough. don’t eat well. (soda crackers with mayonnaise washed down with swigs of diet coke – is that okay?) it’s too hot to walk. i can’t drag myself to the cool, air-conditioned fitness room complete with elliptical trainer and cable television.
can’t (read: don’t) stitch often enough to maintain a blog, so what do i do? i launch a new blog and within 2 weeks, i’m back to stitch and tell.
i am a mess. this is beyond being a complex human being – that’s endearing, this is embarrassing.
okay, enough. i’m going to watch more reruns of law and order. there’s something about solving a life-and-death case in slightly less than 40 minutes (allowing for commercials) that is quite satisfying.
and enviable.
Why must you be limited? To words or fabric or activity (or lack thereof). I thought our goal was to become complex, multi-faceted individuals . . . what I struggle with most is containing the parts of myself into the alloted time frames (40 hours at work plus commute when I must be that anal, organized, always responsive, cheerful helper), the slow-sleepy me when ideas flow like water but I’m too dull to do much with them, the ‘me-time’ person, the wonderful ‘lost hours’ in the quilt studio whether I’m organizing, plotting, or stitching . . .
Why must you live as though you’re in one of those 40 minute episodes when all is edited to fit?
(hope it is the new olive-oil mayo on those soda crackers…)
Why must you be limited? To words or fabric or activity (or lack thereof). I thought our goal was to become complex, multi-faceted individuals . . . what I struggle with most is containing the parts of myself into the alloted time frames (40 hours at work plus commute when I must be that anal, organized, always responsive, cheerful helper), the slow-sleepy me when ideas flow like water but I’m too dull to do much with them, the ‘me-time’ person, the wonderful ‘lost hours’ in the quilt studio whether I’m organizing, plotting, or stitching . . .
Why must you live as though you’re in one of those 40 minute episodes when all is edited to fit?
(hope it is the new olive-oil mayo on those soda crackers…)
tell you what – over the last few months I have come to the conclusion that “the puzzle of me” isn’t something I’m meant to solve or put together. It seems to be a lot more about taking the pieces apart, throwing away the box lid with the image of a completed picture and *then* we’re cookin’ with gas. I just ate a piece of cherry pie for breakfast – at lunchtime. And I cannot adequately convey how much I’m looking forward to a new Closer episode this evening.
Just sayin’…
tell you what – over the last few months I have come to the conclusion that “the puzzle of me” isn’t something I’m meant to solve or put together. It seems to be a lot more about taking the pieces apart, throwing away the box lid with the image of a completed picture and *then* we’re cookin’ with gas. I just ate a piece of cherry pie for breakfast – at lunchtime. And I cannot adequately convey how much I’m looking forward to a new Closer episode this evening.
Just sayin’…
well if you are flounder then I am waffle! I have about 20 years of starts in my life, declared intentions abandoned almost as soon as they leave my mouth. I totally know what you mean about feeling embaressed about it, I find myself thinking what sort of grown woman doesn’t know her own mind? I guess its my kind. Lets give each other permission to explore and not have to settle on anything until we are ready! If its gonna happen anyway we may as well enjoy the ride…
well if you are flounder then I am waffle! I have about 20 years of starts in my life, declared intentions abandoned almost as soon as they leave my mouth. I totally know what you mean about feeling embaressed about it, I find myself thinking what sort of grown woman doesn’t know her own mind? I guess its my kind. Lets give each other permission to explore and not have to settle on anything until we are ready! If its gonna happen anyway we may as well enjoy the ride…
you are very hard to follow. i emailed you several times but it all bounced back. but that in some way is very fitting. right.
you are very hard to follow. i emailed you several times but it all bounced back. but that in some way is very fitting. right.