What happens when you realize you're not an athlete and you're not smart enough to be a genius? I was reading a list of memoirs and biographies with all sorts of catchy titles and hints of glorious doings. It struck me that I wasn't an athlete, wasn't ever going to be an athlete...and usually that means turning to an intellectual pursuit. But I haven't any higher ambitions there either. No NASA career appeared, certainly no one would want me calculating their rocket fuel to the moon. Math being slow and ponderous for me. I CAN do it but gee I wouldn't choose it as a regular gig!
How do we get OK with mediocrity? Is it ever OK to just....be? It's fine to advise friends. You are great the way you are. And you mean it. But to allow yourself to be average, fine, OK...just a quiet citizen in town. The idea is preposterous. What about goals, and sainthood? Fame!
Well, no I don't want to be a movie star. I like observing. I like to hope Ive been in the right place at the right time sometime in my career to help someone through a day, or an illness. But they dont write great memoirs about us everyday folks. The happy ones who say good morning, like to make brownies and have friends to dinner to discuss nothing more important than the weather. To whom petting the cat is a vital and important job every day.
What would the one paragraph book say? Im happy and there you go!
I guess I like the idea better that just because you are a small nut in the tool box doesnt mean you are unneccessary. You are in the parts manual and just becasue its dry reading doesnt mean someone wont need that part sometime..

Catching A Cold

Being ill is a nasty experience. But it has its useful qualities. You loose your appetite! Too bad that part cant last! You learn what is really a priority in life...and its not laundry and dishes. People do send you a little extra TLC. Nice! If you are lucky, people you dont like stay away!! Its a great excuse to get nothing done or lay in bed all day and read. But overall, not recommended.

Choosing a path

What happens to us when we deal with adversity? The basic response hearkens back to fight or flight. Get mad or run. So what happens when you get over the mad and you don't run? Some persons advocate perseverance. Endurance.
Sounds unappetizing, kind of like striving for Sainthood. I ain't that Saintlike. My failing. I want a different path. But the question remains, how to find the road.
And what about giving up? That sounds way to silly and easy to me.
It seems like dieting. Its going to be hard for some, easier for others. Some can do it by deprivation, others can do it with strength of will. But most of us have to slog along , peering at street signs til we find a good road and turn.
Making good paths requires a little preparation I'm discovering. Examine the route and direction. Check for potholes. Line the bottom with some leveling if you can and put gravel down. Pack well the foundation. Don't forget a few forms for good edges. Need a few bulbs for color along the way. Then put your nose to the path and travel.
I wonder if I can go on roller skates??

Italy

I awoke suddenly this morning, leaping up to turn off the alarm, with a huge smile on my face and immediately tried to fall back into the soft mattress and recapture my dream.
In the dream, I was at an airport waiting area, with friends and we were all spontaneously getting on this plane to Italy so they could get married. I didn't even have my passport but "It would be OK because Italy doesn't require one". And I was just so happy! I was going to have to call work and say " Sorry, going to Italy, see ya in a week. I was just giddy!!
I have no idea what that means, other than the thought of hopping on a plane to Italy sounds delicious!!
What does Italy represent? Cheese, artisan breads, flavors, olive oil, deeply warming sun,rocky coasts, dining outside overlooking the water,light flowing skirts, sipping wine....unhurried pace. I sense the food theme!!
I wonder where I'll get to wake up tomorrow?

Quotes

I read a quote today attributed to Gandhi:" An eye for an eye will only make the whole world blind".It instantly made me think of politics and policies and world concerns. And relationships.And families.
When we are hurt or confused by an act or a word or action, we close the door to that space, metaphorically speaking.
Our instinct is to protect ourselves, our concerns, our beliefs. Perhaps the instinct was good back in the caveman days .
What would happen if we were able to keep the door wedged open? I visualize a large,rough, moss cratered, muddy rock holding open the door. Not easy to move to the opening. Begrudgingly rolled to that place. But the door is open. The spill of enlightenment could eek through.
I'm not to happy to bring out my treasures of forgiveness, of understanding; of a smile. I'd rather be mad, or put upon, or right! But I think I'll sit upon my chair, with my cup of tea, near the light...and see what comes through.

Molly Gloss

I attended an writing class/discussion from Molly Gloss last night. Its phenomenal to walk away from a class inspired. Also intimidated. In a good way.Here is an author who knows about describing things. She even can describe a characters emotions without saying so by changing word choices in the surrounding scene. Hard to convey what this means without reading her examples. A completely different style than some of the recent reads Ive completed. What I find awe striking, is the absolute beauty in knowing that language can have depth and meaning. We can communicate. And that some writers do care about craft and subtlety.

Memory

A famous author ( Reading Lolita in Tehran) notes she became obsessed with her parents photographs shortly after they died. She even studied them with a magnifying glass. I have also just finished reading an interesting biography. It made me think about the letters, diaries and papers we leave behind. Some in my extended family keep journals, perhaps for their descendants and maybe for self therapy. Ive never been able to keep one going for more than a few days. Maybe I loose interest in what I have to say. But in thinking about what I might end up leaving behind, I speculate, what would anyone want to know about me? I have no direct descendants. I have a lovely step daughter who will likely be much more occupied with her own children. I have extended family who will also be much more interested in their inner family works.And yet, in my family tree I have researched a woman who had no children of her own but took care of several nieces and nephews and her mother. She seems like the matriarch of her family. She left behind no known letters. I do wonder what she cared about. What she longed for. What she thought regarding her political times. She lived very near the Morman site of Navoo. Her neighborhood was the site for some atrocities. The Civil War swept through her state. Did she have time to read. Did she hate beets? Another woman's story I recently read about (Bold Spirit) survived not because of what she left behind (her children burned her memoir out of misguided anger)but because her later descendants were trying to remember her and find out about her.
I find it a touch sad too that we think we know one another. And maybe we do. Our foibles are so exposed in close contact. Bad habits , we can be kinder about with the distance of time and lost immediacy.
So, for future great grand neices et al: I hate beets, because they are purple and slimy. I love sweets because they are buttery. I like books because I can go somewhere else and gain insight. I like historical things for the same reason. I like old furniture because the wood echoes some sentiment from the tree where it once grew and the persons who might have occupied it some rainy afternoon. I dont like mechanical things as they seem so cold, although I value their function and the ease they bring to my life. Im interested in politics because of people and ideas not so much for the need to bend peoples will. I find it irritating that people cant debate earnestly without resorting to rhetoric that they really havent explored. I see great sadness in the waste of life to pursue material things, though we all like them. I toss about the idea frequently that we all are off the track, when we arent using whatever talents we may have toward the benefit of all....thought I cant figure out how we must turn to that and leave our self (ego) aside. I like mashed potatoes. I like sunflowers. I like rivers and walking on the beach. I like thinking about all my relatives growing up and becoming "someone". I like cats.