Tuesday, December 29, 2009

Spinning

I feel like I'm falling apart right now. I watch the moon through the trees and consider the manga that I have up in another tab and try to forget about how my heart hurts in this moment.

I need a good argument, a good conversation, a good hug and something to drink that will wake up the taste buds on the back of my tongue. I need to be able to release all my energy with my own effort.

Maybe I should start running again. Just need a low traffic area where I will be visible (just in case) and won't get distracted by random stuff going on in the background. Even thinking about it makes my knee tighten a little of its own accord though, so maybe not.

I feel the scar there, and think of the less defined one on the other knee. Life leaves scars on people who go through it. One or two of my invisible scars have been tightening lately too.

My invisible scars aren't hard to find. You will know them by my reaction that is not unlike how I react to when people touch my tangible scars. I pull away and go from my usually relatively mellow state to ready to fight if that area is further irritated. I fight for my friends, I fight for my family and I fight for my scars, that others may be saved from enduring them.

I'm backed into a corner now though, and the only thing anyone seems to want to talk about is those scars and what to do about them. Sorry folks, rubbing Vitamin E on the tangible scars didn't make them disappear, and four years of college won't magically solve all my job frustrations. Thanks for the advise though, really.

I know its my fault though. I keep pointing out my own scars and leave them in the open for you to poke and prod at. Who can resist doing something about what is right in front of them?

So, make a decision, my inner voice orders. What am I going to do? Right here, right now. What is it that I am working towards because if you aren't working towards it you are just wasting time and ultimately working against the very things you claim to desire.

I want to cook. I want to write. I want to see the world.

1 of 3. Unacceptable, and that only part time at that.

So, I must cook or travel. Not later. Not a year from now. Not 6 months from now. Now. This moment is when my fate is decided (if you can call anything that one has so much input in fate). My mind spins like a sword on its handle.

I'm sorry my friends, for when the sword lands I will have to meet my own expectations of myself. Everything else is just excess.


From this hour I ordain myself loos'd of limits and imaginary lines,
Going where I list, my own master total and absolute,
Listening to others, considering well what they say,
Pausing, searching, receiving, contemplating,
Gently, but with undeniable will, divesting myself of the holds that
would hold me.

I inhale great draughts of space,
The east and the west are mine, and the north and the south are mine.

I am larger, better than I thought,
I did not know I held so much goodness.

All seems beautiful to me,
can repeat over to men and women You have done such good to me
I would do the same to you,
I will recruit for myself and you as I go,
I will scatter myself among men and women as I go,
I will toss a new gladness and roughness among them,
Whoever denies me it shall not trouble me,
Whoever accepts me he or she shall be blessed and shall bless me.

Tuesday, December 8, 2009

Don't Give Up

I presently have a very un-glamorous job, but, despite the ideas that Wal-Mart's promotional material instills, this is not a career, at least not to me. The scary part is that for many people there it is a career. Don't get me wrong. Wal-Mart is probably one of the best jobs I've had thus far pay and benefits wise (not to mention relatively reliable breaks), but if I had to deal with people yelling at me over $2 on a jacket for more then a year or two I'd snap. (And two years would be really pushing it.)

The people who work at Wal-Mart aren't the high school drop outs that my parents seem to assume they'd be either. The girl who trained me is finishing off a two year business degree this December. One of the night cashiers has a master's degree and used to teach 4th grade at the elementary school I went to. One of the cart pushers had scholarship offers from elite colleges all over the U.S. but decided to go to LG College because he wanted to stay close to home. The list continues, but the fact that these people have potential isn't my point. (Give me a min. I'm getting there.)

This economy yields some interesting insight into people and what they are willing to do and give up doing in order to get by. It is equally interesting to watch what people aren't willing to give up. People give up name brands, new clothes, more expensive foods and other such extravagancies. People don't seem to want to get rid of other things that have an equal if not greater impact on what they spend though, like gourmet pet food and impulse purchases at the register.

Look a little deeper though. What else are we sacrificing to just get by? Looking at the people who have been cashiers or door greeters at Wal-Mart for 10-15 years, I can't help but wondering how many of us are sacrificing our dreams for that tiny bit of financial stability. Overhearing some of the conversations that go on in the check out line, I sometimes get the urge to reach out to the speaker, shake them and say, "Do what you can! Go for your dreams! Don't go on always saying maybe tomorrow! Tomorrow never comes!" I don't say anything though, and they go on talking about what they are giving up. By lent, there will be nothing left to give up except impulse purchases, if things keep going the way they are going now.

Really I want to cry for them. For the dreams they are leaving behind... It is so sad, but few are brave enough to chase their dreams. Am I brave or stupid to attempt to chase mine? Or is it, as such things often prove to be a combination of bravery and stupidity?


Listen! I will be honest with you,
I do not offer the old smooth prizes, but offer rough new prizes,
These are the days that must happen to you:
You shall not heap up what is call'd riches,
You shall scatter with lavish hand all that you earn or achieve,
You but arrive at the city to which you were destin'd, you hardly
settle yourself to satisfaction before you are call'd by an irresistible call to depart,
You shall be treated to the ironical smiles and mockings of those who remain behind you,
What beckonings of love you receive you shall only answer with passionate kisses of parting,
You shall not allow the hold of those who spread their reach'd hands toward you.