Month: October, 2012

Daily Drivel

I live my life with reckless abandon. I put half-and-half in my coffee. Full fat.
I don’t eat products that are labeled “low fat.” Low fat, in my opinion, equals low taste; also, too sweet.
I drink more coffee than is probably prudent.
I jaywalk when I don’t see any cars coming.
I nap when I’m tired.
I share my opinions—my real opinions—with people who ask me, “So what do you think?”
Sometimes, I open myself up to others.
I’m a real risk-taker—putting myself out in the world, taking chances, living life—and I’m good with that.


As Time Goes By

I am moving through life too quickly. I do everything fast. I eat fast. I dress fast. I think fast. I talk fast. I even write fast. Some people can’t keep up with me and that’s a very good thing for them. They linger. They think. They wait before they speak. They savor.

Me—I’m a blur. Rushing through dinner, hardly knowing what the food tastes like. Blurting out words, thoughts, ideas before they are fully formed. The greater question, of course, is: since my life is at least half gone, how do I slow down? How do I savor?

The Passing of Time

I was in a nursing home today while students from my school visited with the residents. We were stationed in the café; scooping ice cream into bowls, pouring soda into paper cups, handing out napkins. I sat down to observe and quickly got bored. I looked around for a clock to find out how much longer I would have to endure. There was no clock within my sight.

Do you think they hide clocks from the residents? Perhaps they don’t want the old folks to be aware of the slow, slow passing of time—watching life drip, drip, drip by.

Round and round in my head

Why is it that I am so desperate to get my words out into the world? I am certain that at least part of it is having grown up without a voice. No, no, I had a physical voice, but no one was listening. No one.

Yet, my desire to get the words out there is more than just that little girl wanting to be heard. It is my way of thinking and understanding the world. If I leave the words in my brain—whatever the words are saying—they just go round and round and round, making me crazy.

Livin’ in the city

City life. Mid-Atlantic style. It occurred to me that most of the people who live in apartments in my neighborhood are single—young people, old folks, middle-aged divorcees and widows, like me. Very few families. It seems that in DC most families feel they have to live in a house. I’m not sure if it’s a function of the population or the neighborhoods. I can only count two families that I know of in my building.

In New York City, every kind of everybody lives in apartments. There’s no separation. I like that better—more inclusive, normal. I need normal.

Dream Life

Sometimes my dream life is so vivid I can’t figure out if I lived an event or dreamed it. Sometimes, like this morning, my dreams will pop into my head unbidden and play the reel for me.

Last night I dreamed about Dan Engel. Sitting here over breakfast I think that I’ve had this dream before. He’s afraid and he’s built an unwieldy, cage-like thing to hold is fears. Only this time—unlike previous versions of the dream—Dan is gone. He’s moved out of the house, away from parents, on to a life. Wow! He’s a metaphor for me!

Ambition Unrealized

They are my rock stars. Naomi Wolfe. Lois Lowry. Jeffrey Eugenides. Isabelle Allende. Anne Tyler (I’m writing her a fan letter.) These are just the authors I’ve seen recently. There are many, many more. I’m a groupie. I will go out of my way to see them–just to be in their presence and hear what they have to say. I’m hoping a little (just a little) of what they have may rub off on me. I’m hoping I can learn how they do it, where they get the courage from. Yet, I think it’s like Nike: just do it!

Therapy Today

I love therapy. I didn’t always feel this way. Back in my 30’s I had a therapist—she was good—but I would do almost anything not to go. Too painful. You’d think after that time, which lasted three years, that I’d be done. No, not me.
What amazes me at this moment in my life is that there is more to discover about myself. After all this time and all the work? Yes there is. I am finding out there are ways that childhood wounds pop up now and again. Luckily, Jack and I have fun through the discovery.

Clumsy me

I am clumsy. I am not cautious. Sometimes, I am loud. I’m always outspoken, not being of a judicious mind. I don’t plan well for the future. I sometimes feel like I’m lurching from thing to thing. I stumble into life and that can be messy. I have messy emotions.
Yet—I am capable of great love. I’m told that I am sweet, thoughtful, caring. I am willing to take a risk. I want to take the risk. I’m not afraid; not because I don’t know what could happen, but precisely because I do know what could happen.
I’m living!