AND IT IS YOURS

Well, the worst part of the polar vortex, for me, at least, was losing cable/internet connectivity for half the day. That rather slowed down the job search and working. Never fear, though! I used that time to take the recycling out (there's a lot as JV cleaned some of the basement) and back (not recycling time yet) and going to Trader Joe's. And this time, I did not get terribly lost. The mental map of the area is forming!

Niece K called this morning and we had a long catch-up, a follow-up to our December visit. I sent her this picture of the new sheets on the bed. Looks like a good place to be on -4 degree day. However, I did not tarry there.

I did finish the soup which was and is terrific. I will be eating for several days. It's nice to be comfortable in a kitchen again after my painful and aborted Brooklyn sojourn. The kitchen table here is large and the room is sunny so it is a good place to sit and work. 

Given the interconnectivity issue, I didn't get a lot of employment research done. I did use the time to read. I seem to be weaning myself from moving images a bit. I was in a bit of despair as I have not really been able to concentrate on reading for awhile now. I haven't had that fantastic sense of losing myself in a narrative. Well, that's not exactly true as I am on the nineteenth and last disc of Cutting for Stone. But I just like being read to. 


Cooder enjoyed my extra reading time today. That's a thing cats can be good for, reading company. Emmylou is less likely to get so close, but perhaps that is because Cooder is so often nearby.

I did work on resolutions and such. Funny for that kind of internal, concentrated work I am better using analog methods. I don't feel the necessary intimacy with a computer. 

I must admit to feelings of loss and panic again. Time is ticking along and I am still confused and unsure of what to do, which direction is "home" … I had this conversation a bit with C&J, wondering what "my place" is on all sorts of levels, and why I had not yet been able to find it. 

Manifest Destiny

by Cynthia Lowen

 

 

The god I'd left behind sent one last email 

before returning to his people. 

 

That summer was sixty-five degrees and fluorescent. 

I was working at a law firm. 

 

The logical mind thinks, 

You'll be paid for your suffering. 

 

Paradise is of this earth 

and it is yours, 

said the copy-machine. 

 

The impenetrable old growth of paper on my desk 

begged to be made 

irrelevant. 

 

When I took off my skirt-suit I felt like my mother, or myself

 

done pretending 

to be my mother. 

 

I stood at the edge 

of a New World. 

 

I stared up the long rocky coast.

 

Whichever way was something to bump against 

I pressed on in that direction. 

 

It was like a sickness. 

It was like the uncontrollable urge 

to eat dirt.

 Right, where is, what is my "manifest destiny"?

Cooder seems clear about HER manifest destiny.