No Holds
I cried when I read that my reading group was resuming. We’ve read Dickinson and Crane, soon we’ll do Pound. They’ve already done Vallejo, though what they did with him I just can’t say. I worry I can’t do it all anymore. Each time I turn a corner on something, another rolls up, bowls me over.
When my sister started as a tenure-track professor of art she described contests she was judging, exhibits in which she was showing, shows she was curating, philosophers she was reading, and museums she was flying to, fulfilling promises she made in grant proposals and sabbatical applications. She was running ragged, but doing so in paradise.
Old me (or young me) would be pleased with what new me (or old) gets to do. New me, who’s the oldest me’s ever been, gets so tired she tries to stop thinking of all she has to do and thinks about it more instead of sleeping.
I’m thinking of yeses life lets us say. Each one feels open, ready for full voice. No closes. No folds. But look what no can hold.
Too much of a great thing is not so great. Middle path wisdom.
P.S. After reading your blog, I thought of R.D. Laing’s Politics of Experience.
Today a few more things rolled on under.
I am so curious about Laing’s Politics of Experience now. Another book to investigate.
This morning I had so much on my to-do list, I ended up going back to bed because it overwhelmed me. It is all stuff I had said yes to at one point because they all sounded so much fun. Now it’s evening and I’ve procrastinated all day, not getting any of the stuff done. I’m running out of time and I wish I’d said no to all the stuff on the list, because none of it is fun at this point. This is how my life seems to be all the time. I keep on thinking less TV and less sleep will make me more productive and allow me to keep up with all my yeses. Not sure that will work either.