I've returned from my winter hiatus. There was snow. Lots of it. Enough to have me thinking about the nature of obstacles and my attitude towards them.
I think I'm part of a movement.
Blogger Todd Sieling's [http://toddsieling.com/slowblog/?page_id=10|Slow Blog manifesto] has recently been getting some attention. Word of it came to me via a New York Times [http://www.nytimes.com/2008/11/23/fashion/23slowblog.html?_r=1&ref=fashion|article]. (I'm such an un-networked blogger.) The article resonated. Then I googled and came across the lovely [http://rippleeffects.wordpress.com/|Ripple Effects] blog -- another natural slow blogger. [http://rippleeffects.wordpress.com/2008/11/22/slow-blogging-and-the-long-take/|Here's] what the author had to say:
It’s all about thinking through, reading and studying in depth, chewing and digesting, and finally putting something meaningful down in words.
Perhaps I'm not doing that exactly, but I do aspire to share a little bit of substance -- something of meaning. And I wish I had more time tonight to write about this. But it's the end of the semester and the night before Thanksgiving. I'll be away from my computer all weekend. And I've still got pie crusts to make.
At first, I thought it was just the time of year.
It's taken me days, maybe even weeks, to identify the particular flavor of malaise that's lingering in the fuzzy corners of my mind. It's homesickness. I can't remember ever being homesick before, but I'm sure that's what I'm feeling.
I'm working on a story about urban crows -- ubiquitous, gregarious, loud and clever. According to University of Washington's John Marzluff, crows have culturally co-evolved with humans. We are woven into each other's lives, shaping each other's behaviors. As I think about our relationship with crows, it's interesting to reflect on what they can teach us about ourselves.
Transition to grey....
Those fall colors were nice. Now the rain will nudge the leaves to the ground and soggy piles will molder. Unlike Wisconsin, there is no looking forward to crisp winter mornings blanketed in fresh snow. There is only an increasing greying -- and greening -- of the palette to enjoy.
School's been keeping me busy. The autumn colors are amazing this week. I've posted a few photos on [http://www.flickr.com/photos/pollyannamedia/|Flickr]. I intend to post something new here soon, but I've also got two mid-terms to write this weekend.
This is a story idea that I have about mix tapes.
It really has to do with the fact that my car, that I don't drive very often, has a cassette tape player. I really love that it has a cassette player and not a CD player. So, when I'm driving all over town running errands, I've been listening to old (and one new) mix tapes. These tapes haven't really been in circulation, but over the past year and a half as I've moved out of and sold a house, I unearthed several old mix tapes that friends had made for me and a couple I had made for myself.
School's started and I’ve got lots of reading to do for classes. Fortunately, I spent my summer reading (mostly) pleasurable novels. Intentionally or not, two related themes surfaced in my choices: marriage problems and women’s coming of age.
So as I write this, the stock market is diving and the House just rejected the $700 billion bailout plan. Still pretty early to see who's saying what in political blogland, but this is what I've got to say: step back and practice some detachment. These are very interesting times with the potential to be quite scary. Uncertainty is difficult for most people ... as is change. We are witnessing a lot of change -- condensed, fast and unpredictable upheaval, revaluation and reset.
Paying attention? Detachment doesn't mean ignorant or uninterested. So, pay attention.
It's been a year since I hit the reset button, moving 2000 miles away from my old home to the Pacific Northwest. I'm finding it's a process with lots of starts and stops, plateaus and backwards steps, and vortex-like forward motion punctuated by periods of evaluation and re-evaluation of perceived progress.