Recovery and growth, things that interest me, occasional deep-thoughts, and random poetry.
It’s been an interesting few months. That’s actually an ancient Chinese curse – may you live in interesting times. Regardless of whether I’ve been cursed or not – and I suspect not despite my tendency towards self-pity – this last little bit has been tension-filled and fraught. I had an unfortunate result with a mammogram several months back. A “suspicious lesion” showed up and the tests and procedures that followed started a train in motion that’s proving difficult to get off...
I enjoy being in the know; I don’t always enjoy the stress that comes with it. Current events aren’t for sissies. Hang about on the news pages for too long and your stress levels inevitably climb. It doesn’t matter what your interests are or what your political persuasion is. Soon enough, the news of the day will spike your blood pressure...
I came across the phrase “radical discontinuity” in a reading recently. I like the words strung together that way. It sounds energetic. It sounds immediate. It sounds like change. It sounds like something I might want in my life. “Radical discontinuity” is an interesting concept. In my mind, the term “radical discontinuity” reflects a sharp break between the then and the now; a shift between yesterday and today brought about by decision or circumstance. It is a change that results in a dramatic evolution in behaviours...
I think I was a good parent. I’m still a parent, of course, but when your youngest is turning twenty, the role changes somewhat. That’s how it goes with parenting. As soon as you figure out your kid and your job, everything changes. You have to figure things out again. But I think I was a good parent...
"Titles are annoying, both status-based and written. Social titles are annoying, creating an artificial hierarchical structure that I refuse to buy into. Titles for written works are also annoying. Creating new ones over and over is onerous. I hate trying to be clever and attention-grabbing. I hate trying to summarize my thoughts in seven words or less. If I could do that, I wouldn’t need three pages of writing. I would be queen of the aphorism..."
"I’ve been giving some thought to an issue that’s come up and I’ve come to a conclusion that startled me: I don’t think I like chocolate very much. This has kind of rocked my world..."
Why isn’t what I do “living a life”? Because I don’t consider it to be. I’m always vaguely apologetic when people ask “what do you do?” I shuffle and deflect and respond that I don’t do much, I kind of write, sort of, it’s nothing really. I dismiss how I spend my days and give the impression that writing isn’t really that important to me...
