Settlers This evening I have set aside time to work on my music. Not because I have a great inspiration, but more because I have nothing else to do and am going numb looking at the TV screen (even though the V-chip is protecting my innocence~Thanks to my former professor, Prof. Cantor, who lead the research and crusade for the V-Chip installation). Right. Anyway... I'm supposed to be working on my music right now, as I type. Why then, you may ask, am I rambling into my qwerty rather than sitting in a field with my Martin? Because my friends, I am a settler. No, I didn't land on Plymouth Rock, and no, it didn't land on me. What I'm trying to say is that I have high hopes and aspirations and minimal motivation. I asked a friend once if he ever felt like a "Jack of all trades, Master of none." His response was, "No, I'm not a cliche." I think I might be. I might be settling for being a cliche; a statistic; a nameless, faceless number in the matrix. I suppose that's because things just tend to "happen" to me-- grades came easily, and I could do most anything I set my mind to (however, I also knew what I couldn't do and therefore just didn't set my mind to it). But the best things in my life have happened on a whim; on a crazy, random chance or fluke. It's not that I don't try for things. It's just that usually when I do try to take matters into my own hands, I make a royal mess. Perhaps, then, I am being less "safe" and more wise by sitting back and letting the tapestry of life weave itself (or unravel, as the case may be) knowing that the pattern has already been placed, and I just can't see it. I have a hard time discerning what my role is and how active I should be vs. how much I should sit back and wait. Perhaps I should think of it like being led blindfolded through a maze by the mere echo of the intangible voice of one who has gone before me to determine and clear the way. It's not my job to make the maze or find the correct passage, my role is to listen for the voice and put one foot in front of the other to get there. So, I can't be settling if the path is already determined, right? I just know there's something great out there in store for me~ yet I have this sneaking suspicion I'll have to wait until this world is behind me to find it. For now I'll just have to use my waiting time and the resources left to me wisely. posted by me 6:06 PM . . .
Last Night's Journal Entry (unedited) Some nights are great for staying in. Some nights I can't wait to go out. Tonight all I wanted to do was stay out. Not out partying or painting the town red, just outside. How can you not be outside when the cool air draws warmth from the steaming pavement? I laid down on the black top of the small, empty parking lot across the the street from my apartment and gazed up at the blue-black sky, flecked here and there by pale orange orbs of light. I looked at the stars and the clouds int he sky and at the enormous tree overhead whose girth suggests centuries of experience; whose boughs exude strength even when its leaves are replaced by 9 inches of unexpected winter snow-- a cold, wet, heavy wrath. And I listened. I listened to the millions of bugs with their cacophanous chirrups and creets and brrbrrs dotted with buzzing and droning. Droning insects in hives and hills, droning cars on the nearby highways and overpasses and near-but-far planes descending and ascending through the smoky mists of clouds. And I wanted to lay there all night, soaking up every last bit of haet and energy from the earth and sky, leaving all else cold and despondent. I closed my eyes, listening, feeling, smelling. Smelling the clean air, the cool breeze, the fresh cut grass five feet away. My senses could have carried me off into dreams-- sweet dreams. But then a high school kid pulled into the parking lot and almost ran me over. That kind of killed the mood. I guess I'll have to settle for open windows tonight, soft cotton sheets against my skin and Adam Duritz crooning me to sleep, drowning out the drone of the fan, the insectral orchestra and the not so distant highway. And from here I will drift off to dreams-- sweet or otherwise. posted by me 8:37 AM . . .
Dear Friends, Today I am feeling quiet and sub-par, so I will leave you with one of my favorite quotes from The Chronicles of Narnia: “He knew why they were laughing and joined in the laugh himself. But very quickly they all became grave again: for, as you know, there is a kind of happiness and wonder that makes you serious. It is too good to waste on jokes.” I believe this kind of happiness and wonder exists, even when there is an opposing dread and fear vying for the ultimate saturation of your soul. Cling to the reality of hope, friends, and hope for the gravity of joy. ~Melissa posted by me 9:52 AM . . .
Labor Day Generally people are hard pressed to find a distinction between Memorial Day and Labor Day. As a kid, I came to a quick short cut that has stuck with me even into post-educational life: Labor Day is when school starts-- when they put you back into slave labor over poetry and trigonometry. Therefore, Memorial Day is the other one. Today is Labor Day. A day when half of the US sleeps in long enough to justify 'brunch' before heading out to the beckoning sails, or sales depending on your geographical location and the other half begrudgingly get up to dish up their hashbrown casserole or reshelf their dressing room rejects. It's a day for chilling out and cooking out. A day to savor the last lingering rays of summer. Unless you're in the South, then you still have at least a month and a half of summer left... It's a day when the regular 9-5 Joe takes the day to spend with his family, friends and probably at least one person he'd prefer not to see on a regular basis. It's a day when tumbleweeds roll across the cool, vacated city streets before 10 a.m. I know. I came into work this morning at 8 a.m. It's a day when I'm one of the only ones here and I like that. It's a day when I actually don't mind leaving my office door open because no one else is here to care what music I'm playing, however loudly. And it's a day in the near future I'll be able to have off as a substitute for today to enjoy the lakes and malls in their quietude while the rest of the world is back to slaving away. On top of that, I'll still get to hit the cook outs tonight. It's a good day. posted by me 9:00 AM . . .
