trapped in time

On the second full day of my recent trip to Gloucester, MA., I found myself walking around town in the pouring rain. We ended up ducking into the Gloucester Maritime Museum for shelter, and part of the museum was an "exhibit" of local fauna. It made me sad to see these few, sorry-looking creatures tossed into cement tanks...trapped.

Today I have been thinking about how much I identify with the starfish.

Humans live life in four dimensions; time is the fourth dimension. We are bound by time. It is impossible for me to go back to two minutes ago, I am forced by time to always be "now". It's frustrating and comforting at the same time. Ah, the bondage of the familiar.

Just think about what life would be with no time.

confrontation

It's not a well-liked word, or concept.

Lucky me, I find that confrontation runs in my nature, quite at home in between soul and spirit. I was reminded of this once again when tonight, feeling a bit askew after leaving my parents' house, I called my mom on the way home to ask her about the tension I'd sensed from her. Turns out, she wasn't mad; her feelings weren't hurt or anything like that. Unnecessary phone call? Maybe. I might never have known the whole situation, though, if I'd just kept to my assumptions.

A few of my friends are not like this: they would rather slit their wrists than confront a potentially uncomfortable situation. At times, I wonder why I am not more like them: they usually don't have uncomfortable or awful stories about confrontations gone awry. It might be easier to live in a "duck and weave" mentality instead of taking them square on the chest as I seem genetically disposed to. Just like when, in a game of laser tag with my high school graduating class, I snuck up on some jocks and literally just stood there while they plastered me with shots. Why? For what? I could've spent the whole game tucked in a corner or something. Never have been able to figure that one out.

This much I know: confronting things doesn't always lead to an absolutely smooth ride. On the contrary, it stirs things up, gets things moving. Whether or not the shaking and the stirring moves things into a comfortable place is not always known. But at least circumstances aren't acting on an inert target. Or maybe it's that moving around, confronting things head on, just makes me feel better. At least I know what's hitting me.

crafting a discipline

"The most important talent may be the talent of practice itself." --Atul Gawande

Hello. This is my first real go at this, and I'm a little nervous, but hopeful. I think that this will be a good spot to work on the daily discipline of not just writing, but writing with the knowledge that someone else might read what I've written...that scary word (for some): audience.
I have no real thought for direction, except to share my little musings and send them out into the world, for whatever that's worth. It may not be worth much, aside from my own catharsis. We shall see.
Today was not a particularly fun day. There were a lot of "have to's" involved: I felt mostly crabby or self-pitying as I drove around in the sunshine, to and from my sunday afternoon commitments. There was little traffic, and I happened to find some great music to listen to on the journey. I am thinking now, as I look back, that it was not such a bad day, after all. I am beginning to think about gratitude.
There may not have been anything about my day to blow my mind with happiness. Or was there? Yes, I had commitments that I didn't particularly relish. But I also had a smooth drive in the golden afternoon, with good tunes, and when I got to the event, they fed me. I had some nice conversations with lovely people. When I got home, I remembered a chocolate bar I'd stashed in my drawer. It was actually a great day, come to think of it.
...Of course, these little details I'm realizing I'm grateful for are nothing in comparison to big things, like the fact that my car works, I have enough food, I even have chocolate. I don't live in Darfur. There is so much to be overwhelmingly grateful for. It's funny how human nature, my nature, tends to push all that aside in favor of obsessing over the slightest wants and whims. But I guess that just comes with the territory of being human.