fuzzy

Today I feel a little blurry, a little not-with-it. I got enough sleep last night. My list to stuff to-do today is not gigantic. All-in-all, I have no excuse feeling so fuzzy. But maybe that's it right there: no excuses, no demands. I am not really "required" to be sharp today. It will not be an incredibly busy day, and maybe that's exactly what makes my brain ease up. Not really necessary to be in overdrive if you don't have a day that demands it. It just makes me reflect on how busy I allow myself to be at times. There are days when I don't even have a minute to sit with my cup of coffee and think about...whatever. And, as I would tell any writing student, reflection is integral...so why would I not make it a priority? Too busy? Is that a cop-out? A dear friend of mine always makes time. MAKES time to reflect, to create. He is never "too busy" to do something that feeds his spirit. I run around doing so many things, and I blame my lack of focus on the slew of shit that I have cobbled to myself and tied to me, like so many tangled streamers. It is really within me to say "no", to pause and to work some of the knots. It might also give me time to reflect, to not be so fuzzy.

working the rust out

I've been doing some thinking recently about roots, being anchored in who one is, regardless of where one lives. Anchors have a rich history as a symbol of staying power. I read about the image above that it was particularly popular as a grave-stone symbol for early Christians, who would use it to disguise crosses, or to reference Hebrews 6:
17 Wherein God, willing more abundantly to show unto the heirs of promise the immutability of his counsel, confirmed it by an oath:
18 that by two immutable things, in which it was impossible for God to lie, we might have a strong consolation, who have fled for refuge to lay hold upon the hope set before us:
19 which hope we have as an anchor of the soul, both sure and steadfast, and which entereth into that within the veil;
20 whither the forerunner is for us entered, even Jesus, made a high priest for ever after the order of Melchiz'edek.


The symbol is, on the surface, a simple one. Literal anchors keep boats from floating away on the open sea. They are a physical representation of safety, ensuring that nothing is lost.


I feel like I need to go to this restaurant! The food be what it may, I am a sucker for a well-named establishment, especially one that appeals to my overdeveloped sensitivity to symbols. The name of this place, "Anchor and Hope", reinforces that Hebrews 6 connection that I find personally rich and meaningful.

*Question that came up in conversation last night: Do things rust quicker or slower at the bottom of the ocean than they do at the surface? We thought that the water (duh) and salt might speed up the process, but that the pressure and temperature might slow it down....


A picture I took on our first visit to Gloucester. Seems I've had anchors on the brain longer than I'd realized.

It's quite late. Tomorrow is friday, which is good. However, I am running, running, running this weekend. I feel so fried right now, but I'm trying to hold on to the solitude and placidity of this moment, when I should be asleep. I think I will just go to bed.

rushrushrush

it's winter, alright

awake

Amazing how awake I feel, though running on considerably less sleep than usual.

The other day I landed in my room and my coat and books and bag and stuff went flying everywhere. I took off my hat and threw it on the corner of my desk chair. I took of my earrings and tossed them on the dresser. I put on my slippers. I went to make myself some tea. This is how my earrings landed, amongst others:



I love the random pattern.

The holidays have been big, lovely swirl of beautiful busy-ness. Now, it is hand back to the plow. I wonder if I will have time to read the wonderful books I got for Christmas...

Last night I finished the short Annie Dillard piece, "Holy the Firm", and I'm glad. I'm glad because of all the images I will have to roll over in the hands of my mind: burning moths, Christ shining through the slats, Absolute at base, Holy the Firm. Just read the book, please. It's beautiful.

procrastinating some more

I love days when I am "with it" enough to experience small pleasures. I had a perfect cup of coffee this morning. I went to the library and sat it an easy chair, reading. Never mind that I still have one last paper to write before being utterly finished with this semester. Never mind that there are many pesky emails to be read and responded-to. I am kind of happy in my denial~like the time when my grandma bought eight beautiful hand-painted Christmas ornaments (I was twelve, I think) and refused to look at the bill. She made the clerk cover the total on the receipt as she signed it.

That is what I'm doing right now: blogging instead of writing a paper, and it's lovely. But all credit card bills must eventually be looked at and paid...all ignored final papers must actually be written...graduate classes must be passed. C'est la vie!