Different font today, for a different feeling.
I'm compartmentalizing again; it helps me function when I'm feeling overwhelmed, like I am now. I know I'll get everything done that I want and need to get done, and that I'll get them done *well* - it's just the energy and the doubt and the OCD dragging me down.
So: the autumnal equinox has come, and gone. The South - Louisiana in particular - barely notices, since we engage in a little something Indian summer. Though, admittedly, when I left the library this afternoon in search of a cup of coffee, it was quite pleasant outside. There was a lovely breeze; the girl smoking while she talked on her cellphone made me smile, rather than annoy me. "Daddy, you wouldn't believe it! All these people..." was all I caught of her conversation, but it made me smile, and it made me homesick.
I wanted to go home this weekend, but my parents will be out of town, and the whole purpose of going home this weekend was to hang with my family. I shall postpone fulfillment of said desire until next weekend. I suppose it's just as well; I'm very busy and focused, and being in town will facilitate the likelihood of me coming into work this weekend to tighten up loose ends.
...I wish we were full into autumn, those brief few weeks we get down here. I want to feed the self-same restlessness I'm currently ignoring; I need to feel the change of seasons, to know that I'm still alive and functioning right.
I have to be so careful, for so many reasons. I have to not feel as deeply as I usually do; I have to focus my energies where they will not allow me to feel so deeply. I can't practice my usual habits; I must sing the song of discipline and stay on the path. I already know that I am physically compromised; it's not delusion or hypochondria or pessimism - it's the knowledge that my immune system sucks, and that I have inflammation in the back of my throat which is persisting - probably the beginning of a cold, which I can't afford to have right now...
...I'm losing focus. I'm starting to think too deeply and too hard about the tasks at hand, rather than just doing them. I'm going to stop right now, and focus. I can do this, I will do this.
9.24.2008
9.22.2008
...these hungry times...
Being Home was...wonderful, as always. It does something to my soul, which I can hardly relate in words. It heals all the little tears and scratches, and even the bigger gashes. No, it doesn't make the fibro pain go away...but it certainly doesn't matter that I hurt, when I'm being embraced by the Holy City.
I tried not to look back as we left the City, but I certainly offered Her a little prayer as we passed through (we stayed on the Elysian Fields side of the City), promised that soon I would come back and give Her more of my time, more of my attention, which was divided between the concert we went down there to attend, two friends I got to spend time with, and keeping the Captain in the right direction (he, like most folks, tends to get turned around down in the Quarter)...not to mention the pain. This flare-up is easing off, but between the travel, the hellish week I had last week, and...a myriad other everyday evils and concerns, it haunted me the whole time I was Home.
...but I was Home. Home. It's a liturgy, a love, and a secret, the shout of trumpets and the subtle hum of the River. There was so much burning in me while we there, so much I could feel myself wanting, so much I could envision having, doing - and, for a little while, I let myself forget the reality of the situation. Just for a little while - it never does me any good to forget for long.
We need to go back, if for no other reason than Christmas shopping. I have to go to Baton Rouge next month; perhaps I will persuade the Captain to come with, and we'll spend the weekend in New Orleans, by ourselves, and haunt the Holy City like pilgrims.
I tried not to look back as we left the City, but I certainly offered Her a little prayer as we passed through (we stayed on the Elysian Fields side of the City), promised that soon I would come back and give Her more of my time, more of my attention, which was divided between the concert we went down there to attend, two friends I got to spend time with, and keeping the Captain in the right direction (he, like most folks, tends to get turned around down in the Quarter)...not to mention the pain. This flare-up is easing off, but between the travel, the hellish week I had last week, and...a myriad other everyday evils and concerns, it haunted me the whole time I was Home.
...but I was Home. Home. It's a liturgy, a love, and a secret, the shout of trumpets and the subtle hum of the River. There was so much burning in me while we there, so much I could feel myself wanting, so much I could envision having, doing - and, for a little while, I let myself forget the reality of the situation. Just for a little while - it never does me any good to forget for long.
We need to go back, if for no other reason than Christmas shopping. I have to go to Baton Rouge next month; perhaps I will persuade the Captain to come with, and we'll spend the weekend in New Orleans, by ourselves, and haunt the Holy City like pilgrims.
9.11.2008
Huh....never thought of it like that...
I serve on two committees that, predictably, jack up my blood pressure - Faculty Senate and the Library Webpages Committee. They have something in common which results in the rise in blood pressure: a variety of viewpoints. Now, I'm not saying that's a bad thing; in fact, I think it's a great thing. It means we are to take into consideration multiple points of view in a forum situation, which helps us make well-informed and carefully thought-out plans, and we're able to cover our bases better.
But it also means that sometimes we have to (1) deal with personal agendas (it's not an issue on the webpages one, but it's been a big one in Senate), and (2) work extra hard to compromise yet still meet the needs of all the parties concerned/involved, which is, as you can imagine, pretty difficult.
Today in the webpages meeting, there was...drama. A mass meltdown of sorts. I won't talk about that here - I've already ranted elsewhere, and feel better. Also, I think we came to a better understanding of some of our issues, though it's lamentable that it happened the way it happened. What I want to consider here is something two of my colleagues said afterward that made me think.
One colleague said that she always felt it was...unfair that the reference department projected its aggression on me as the conduit for its expression, i.e., when the department is irritated about something, I'm the one that expresses it. I never really thought of it like that. I've just always felt that, because our department head isn't really an advocate for us as a department, I should be, being the next "senior" member in the department. Also, I'm the most outspoken, never one to back down on an issue I think is important, to sound sort of politicky for minute. I never really thought of it as a emotional experience - it's always been one of practicality and necessity. I never considered the emotional side of it.
But my colleague is right; I am the voice of aggression for my department. But it doesn't bother me. I consider it an honor to be the Bitch on behalf of my colleagues. :)
Another colleague remarked that she felt compelled to speak out during this particular meeting (rather than holding her peace) because she felt it was unfair that I was the one who did most of the fighting on behalf of our department. "You're saying the things we're all thinking, and fighting for all the things we want - but you're usually the only one doing it, even though we all agree. I felt it was time to back you up." Which I appreciate - sometimes I feel like I talk too much in these meetings, but as yet another co-worker told me once: these meetings seem to lose steam and shut down whenever I have to leave early. They don't get stuff accomplished because nobody talks. It's nice to know that I'm not actually talking too much, or monopolizing the conversation - apparently I'm just summing stuff up better and expressing it more appropriately, and my colleagues don't find it necessary to "me too" too often.
Before you think I'm getting a big head, consider: I'm shocked to hear these things, and to hear my co-workers applaud my efforts, which I thought were annoying them. No - they're telling me that they're glad I'm here to help, and that's always a nice feeling. Should I get my boss's job, I hope to be able to continue to support my co-workers. I genuinely do have their best (work) interests at heart.
But it also means that sometimes we have to (1) deal with personal agendas (it's not an issue on the webpages one, but it's been a big one in Senate), and (2) work extra hard to compromise yet still meet the needs of all the parties concerned/involved, which is, as you can imagine, pretty difficult.
Today in the webpages meeting, there was...drama. A mass meltdown of sorts. I won't talk about that here - I've already ranted elsewhere, and feel better. Also, I think we came to a better understanding of some of our issues, though it's lamentable that it happened the way it happened. What I want to consider here is something two of my colleagues said afterward that made me think.
One colleague said that she always felt it was...unfair that the reference department projected its aggression on me as the conduit for its expression, i.e., when the department is irritated about something, I'm the one that expresses it. I never really thought of it like that. I've just always felt that, because our department head isn't really an advocate for us as a department, I should be, being the next "senior" member in the department. Also, I'm the most outspoken, never one to back down on an issue I think is important, to sound sort of politicky for minute. I never really thought of it as a emotional experience - it's always been one of practicality and necessity. I never considered the emotional side of it.
But my colleague is right; I am the voice of aggression for my department. But it doesn't bother me. I consider it an honor to be the Bitch on behalf of my colleagues. :)
Another colleague remarked that she felt compelled to speak out during this particular meeting (rather than holding her peace) because she felt it was unfair that I was the one who did most of the fighting on behalf of our department. "You're saying the things we're all thinking, and fighting for all the things we want - but you're usually the only one doing it, even though we all agree. I felt it was time to back you up." Which I appreciate - sometimes I feel like I talk too much in these meetings, but as yet another co-worker told me once: these meetings seem to lose steam and shut down whenever I have to leave early. They don't get stuff accomplished because nobody talks. It's nice to know that I'm not actually talking too much, or monopolizing the conversation - apparently I'm just summing stuff up better and expressing it more appropriately, and my colleagues don't find it necessary to "me too" too often.
Before you think I'm getting a big head, consider: I'm shocked to hear these things, and to hear my co-workers applaud my efforts, which I thought were annoying them. No - they're telling me that they're glad I'm here to help, and that's always a nice feeling. Should I get my boss's job, I hope to be able to continue to support my co-workers. I genuinely do have their best (work) interests at heart.
9.03.2008
[no words]
The Holy City still stands. What else can I say? She still stands, and is not overwhelmed like before. She still stands. She is safe, and we are safe, and I am eternally grateful to the Powers-That-Be, both of the world and not, that She is safe, and we are safe.
What else need I say? SHE STILL STANDS.
What else need I say? SHE STILL STANDS.
8.28.2008
...all my words are falling short...
...please, not again. It's enough to be reminded that tomorrow is the anniversary of Katrina's landfall on New Orleans. It's enough to be reminded of what happened. Like 9/11, Katrina still goes to the heart of me, and the thought of what the City and Her people endured - of what all the victims of natural disasters endure - still and always will bring me to tears.
It happened; we can't change that, only recover, and pray for providence and solace. We can recover, and prepare. We couldn't have stopped Katrina. We could have done something about the levees, yes, but not the storm itself. It was bad enough, before the levees.
I went down there, you know, December 2005, mere months after it happened. We went into the Ninth Ward, to the very spot where the levees failed. I saw Her, the City, ravaged, raped, gasping, and I thought, This will be the death of me. New Orleans is as much a part of my identity as my parents, my siblings, my friends, my education - anything that has shaped me into the person I am. I rejoiced that She still lived...but would she make it through the night?
She did, she has, as far as I'm concerned. I went to Mardi Gras 2006, and I knew Her soul had not flown. The City thrived in spirit, if not in flesh. I went to Mardi Gras 2007 and 2008; I take regular trips down there in between Mardi Gras seasons (luckily my job requires my presence in southern Louisiana frequently). I have family down there. I don't care what the natives say who say that She is not recovered - they're looking for a normalcy that will never return, for a presence that can never been regained. New Orleans will never be the same - but She has recovered.
...so the thought of Her being hit again is unbearable and soul-wracking.
It's like this: in February 1997 my mother was diagnosed with breast cancer. She lost one breast and had to undergo chemo therapy. It was a devastating experience, but she recovered. She was declared free of cancer.
In April 2001 my mother was again diagnosed with breast cancer - a different cancer, not the same cancer as before, an entirely different cancer - in her remaining breast, which she subsequently lost, as well as undergoing chemo again. Though we'd been through this before, and knew what to expect, and could plan better and understood better....it was no less devastating to see her suffering and sick and in pain. It was no less devastating and heartbreaking and difficult to have to endure it again. She missed out on going to Europe as a family (she was determined that we go on, especially since my dad had never been, and she had); to be there for my engagement (which she insisted take place as it had been planned) in London.
Even if you've lived through something before, and know what to expect, it's no less painful and heartrending to live through it again.
It happened; we can't change that, only recover, and pray for providence and solace. We can recover, and prepare. We couldn't have stopped Katrina. We could have done something about the levees, yes, but not the storm itself. It was bad enough, before the levees.
I went down there, you know, December 2005, mere months after it happened. We went into the Ninth Ward, to the very spot where the levees failed. I saw Her, the City, ravaged, raped, gasping, and I thought, This will be the death of me. New Orleans is as much a part of my identity as my parents, my siblings, my friends, my education - anything that has shaped me into the person I am. I rejoiced that She still lived...but would she make it through the night?
She did, she has, as far as I'm concerned. I went to Mardi Gras 2006, and I knew Her soul had not flown. The City thrived in spirit, if not in flesh. I went to Mardi Gras 2007 and 2008; I take regular trips down there in between Mardi Gras seasons (luckily my job requires my presence in southern Louisiana frequently). I have family down there. I don't care what the natives say who say that She is not recovered - they're looking for a normalcy that will never return, for a presence that can never been regained. New Orleans will never be the same - but She has recovered.
...so the thought of Her being hit again is unbearable and soul-wracking.
It's like this: in February 1997 my mother was diagnosed with breast cancer. She lost one breast and had to undergo chemo therapy. It was a devastating experience, but she recovered. She was declared free of cancer.
In April 2001 my mother was again diagnosed with breast cancer - a different cancer, not the same cancer as before, an entirely different cancer - in her remaining breast, which she subsequently lost, as well as undergoing chemo again. Though we'd been through this before, and knew what to expect, and could plan better and understood better....it was no less devastating to see her suffering and sick and in pain. It was no less devastating and heartbreaking and difficult to have to endure it again. She missed out on going to Europe as a family (she was determined that we go on, especially since my dad had never been, and she had); to be there for my engagement (which she insisted take place as it had been planned) in London.
Even if you've lived through something before, and know what to expect, it's no less painful and heartrending to live through it again.
8.27.2008
raise up your glass...to good King John
Yesterday's exercise in following will over flesh: success! I did not accomplish everything on my home to-do list, but that's because I underestimated how much time some of the tasks I undertook would take, not because I got tired or gave up. I kept going, and I have not had to pay for it. I paused at a decent time to have some dinner and took a reasonable amount of time to enjoy it, then stopped at a decent time (around 8:30-ish) to start work on a commission. All in all, it was a good evening, and I was so pleased with the success of will over wanting that I rewarded myself with a piece of honey pita (pita toasted with cinnamon and drizzled with clover honey) and didn't feel any guilt at not accomplishing everything on the list, or having a little treat. I was able to fall asleep easily, which is always a lovely thing for a life-long insomniac.
Today I shall resume this endeavor, focusing on the things I didn't get to yesterday, and adding some time for exercise and fun jewelry-making. I'll be seeing my future sister-in-law this weekend (Eric's brother's fiancee), and I'd like to have a little gift for her, a little congratulatory present, something that will "match" her engagement ring (white gold with pink diamonds). We shall see. I also need to wrap the bracelet I made for my soul-sis for her birthday. I've had it for a while, but I haven't wrapped it.
Four more sessions to teach this week; I'm looking forward to them. Two of them are straight "here's how to use the library in the context of an English 102 class," and one of my friends teaches the classes. Another of my friends is *in* one of them, so YAYZ. The other two are only focusing on plagiarism, one of my favorite topics to talk about, so that'll be good, too. Only thing? Two of the classes are 8am classes. Blech. But anything for Jerry (that's my friend who teaches)!
Anyway, I have some stuff to do. I just thought I'd share my little success from yesterday!
Today I shall resume this endeavor, focusing on the things I didn't get to yesterday, and adding some time for exercise and fun jewelry-making. I'll be seeing my future sister-in-law this weekend (Eric's brother's fiancee), and I'd like to have a little gift for her, a little congratulatory present, something that will "match" her engagement ring (white gold with pink diamonds). We shall see. I also need to wrap the bracelet I made for my soul-sis for her birthday. I've had it for a while, but I haven't wrapped it.
Four more sessions to teach this week; I'm looking forward to them. Two of them are straight "here's how to use the library in the context of an English 102 class," and one of my friends teaches the classes. Another of my friends is *in* one of them, so YAYZ. The other two are only focusing on plagiarism, one of my favorite topics to talk about, so that'll be good, too. Only thing? Two of the classes are 8am classes. Blech. But anything for Jerry (that's my friend who teaches)!
Anyway, I have some stuff to do. I just thought I'd share my little success from yesterday!
8.26.2008
can't do a thing to stop me...
...well, that's not entirely true. I most often drag [my]self home half-alive at the end of the day. Never mind how fast my mind might still be going; the flesh gives up. But the mind never stops, never ever never ever. This will, this mind - they are determined. But this flesh hates pain, like most flesh does. Perhaps being a masochist would have been a blessing, in this context.
But my will - I will let it dominate today. I will teach my session this afternoon, and then I will go home and I will do all that I want to do. I let the flesh have its way yesterday, but today is *my* way, and I will accomplish all I want to accomplish.
So perhaps you can't do a thing to stop me. Perhaps nothing would ever stop me, if I could really believe in mind over matter. I'm made that way, to want to believe in it. But I'm also a realist, and I can't deny the reality of the pain when I'm not careful.
Where's the middle path? Where's the happy medium? Would that I could find it. Perhaps if I try harder and am more careful, cautious, and observant, I will figure it out, sooner rather than later. I have hope - for all my realism, I still have hope. And perhaps *that* is my real strength.
But my will - I will let it dominate today. I will teach my session this afternoon, and then I will go home and I will do all that I want to do. I let the flesh have its way yesterday, but today is *my* way, and I will accomplish all I want to accomplish.
So perhaps you can't do a thing to stop me. Perhaps nothing would ever stop me, if I could really believe in mind over matter. I'm made that way, to want to believe in it. But I'm also a realist, and I can't deny the reality of the pain when I'm not careful.
Where's the middle path? Where's the happy medium? Would that I could find it. Perhaps if I try harder and am more careful, cautious, and observant, I will figure it out, sooner rather than later. I have hope - for all my realism, I still have hope. And perhaps *that* is my real strength.
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