I’m sitting here staring into the monitor. My espresso slowly going cold. Looking a blank title bar, just sort of stalled in mid-thought. “Speechless” – first thing in the morning? That’s rare for me. My dreams often fill my thoughts and kick off my writing at the start of my day. Other times, I wake still considering something that troubled me the day before. Sometimes I wake with a sensation or emotion that seems to drive my experience and inspire me, or the studying, reading, email, or yoga do the that, instead. This morning? I am sitting here, staring into a title bar – with no title. That’s generally where I begin, the focal point of what is to come – a title. Not this morning. Could be the product of the short night; it was past midnight before I slept, and I woke again at 3:00 am.
I finally type ‘TBD’ into the title bar, and jot a quick reminder to myself to connect with a librarian friend of mine and get some remedial schooling on semicolons and quotation marks. I suspect I’ve gone far astray of whatever rules may exist – and I do want people to read my words with some comfort and a sense of familiarity, with my punctuation and syntax if nothing else.
It has been an oddly difficult week. I’ve certainly been having my own experience. The OPD [Other People’s Drama] levels in life seem pretty high, lately, too. Funny thing…a partner returned home from a recent event, and shared a short story someone cool had shared with him. The Egg, by Andy Weir. I was incredibly moved. It seemed very consistent with threads of ideas that already exist in my contemplation of what is, and what isn’t, and maybe why. He shared it with me almost shyly, I consumed it with great delight; I was moved. I was moved as much by the sharing, and the tenderness in that gesture, as the I was by the story – and that’s saying something.
I am just finishing off a re-reading of Stranger in a Strange Land. An interesting connection, a thread of coincidence and meaning exists; throughout the book the main character, Valentine Michael Smith ‘The Man from Mars’ refers to himself as ‘only an egg’ in moments of doubt, troubling curiosity, and confusion. It’s a pretty powerful book, and at one time highly controversial. I suspect most people who read it get hung up on the representation of poly amorous love, or being affronted by perceived religious blasphemies, and miss some of the other insights and profundities. On this particular read through, I am far less interested in those portions of the plot than I am in hints and references to mindfulness, perspective, sufficiency and choice. This is a book that says a lot about free will, accountability and consequences, but I doubt most people reading it notice those elements; it is also an amazing story.
I’ve been eager to hear about my partner’s festival weekend, and realize with a touch of sadness that he’s had basically no chance to really share his traveler’s tales with me. Today he leaves to spend a few days with a cherished friend, doing meaningful things and taking time out to take care of needs of his own. We take few opportunities to actually ‘miss each other’, love is amazing stuff and we enjoy each other’s company greatly. There is growth and healing and progress in also taking time for the things we love that we don’t share, or don’t do together, and these things are also part of who we are. I’ll miss him, and when he returns I will eagerly listen to his tales of adventure. As I think on it, I realize he’s probably in the same situation; we haven’t actually had much in the way of conversation about what we did with our time, and what our experiences were, while we were doing our thing last weekend. I’d ask ‘where has the time gone?’ but I know the answer to that one; the minutes, hours, and days of a lifetime wasted on OPD can’t be calculated easily, but drama is as time consuming as child-rearing is costly.
Walking my own path.
So. A few quiet days without this being who is so dear to me; the world with benefit from his time with others, no doubt so will he. I will focus on taking care of me, studying, meditation, asking questions, and living quiet life, content and productive, and becoming the woman I most want to be. Today is a very good day to change the world.
Evening Light 