I am trying really, really hard to come up with some kind of meaning here, some kind of message, some kind of philosophy, some kind of deep thought. Nothing is coming.
All I can see is the surface of life; I'm skating along it, crossing things off my To Do list, worrying about social engagements, gifts to be given, and errands to be run. There are things to be cleaned up, picked up, put away. There are seams to be fixed, buttons to be sewn back on. There are things to be baked. I don't have time to stop and ponder. That or I don't want to, who knows?
Part of me wants to have something to share, but is that just my own desire to validate myself by writing something big and beautiful? Something worthy of praise?
Some days I write because it's real, and I write just because this truth just has to come out. But on days when I'm struggling to find that truth, I start to panic a little bit. I start to wonder if I'm any good, and I'm sure everyone is going to stop reading because it's pretty clear things are going to be downhill from here... Sometimes I do wonder about my own motivations for lots of things. Not just the writing. Sometimes I ask myself why I want the things I want, and I don't always have a good answer for myself. Sometimes I wonder why I, why people, insist on tying their own self-worth to things we think we can measure: things like the grades we've gotten, the mountains we've climbed, and the people we've managed to impress. Because I don't think that's what it's really about. I hope it's not. I told a friend that there is more to you than these things we focus on so much.
What's left after you take all those other things away? That is what I'm looking for. Only sometimes it's hard to get past the surface of life.
Insanity continues as Christmas grows closer. I have concluded that I will not be able to relax until Christmas day itself. But I am grateful for the friends I have still with me. I've realized lately that it can be difficult sometimes to keep people in your life, no matter how much you liked each other. Family is also, in both comforting and difficult ways, always there. I think I'm grateful for that too.
And so the days meander forward at a pace I can't abide. I want them to slow down. Give me more time, I say. Slow me down, and fill me up.
3 comments:
Meaning doesn't come from 'having', it comes from understanding. A concept that was impossible for me to comprehend in my youth.
I have just finished reading this page...and I have to say, Ivy I miss your posts. I quit xanga a while back, but your posts are always so beautiful, so true, and put things into words that I feel but can't express.
OK Ivy, here is the Tommy Humpage perspective...which always helps me...
Writing..(like creating art) is really not about "The Masterpiece"...it is about the experiment, the sketches, the studied drawings, the process. Never never paint (or write) the Masterpiece...just go with what is in your heart and mind that day...
keep the process going...
and the Masterpiece just happens one day
Tommy is a good go to person..but he is shy...if you lived close...you two would get along great...he is a mixture of Matt Lamb and Danny Lamb...with a heavy emphasis on Matt...
He just finished his first semester of graduate school and his professor wants to publish his final paper and co-author it with him!!!! It was the best Christmas present he could get...
when he gives me a copy to read, I will pass it along to you.
Please kiss everyone and wish them a Merry Christmas, I wish I could peak in on all of you Christmas Day.
your auntie deeda
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