pushing around the clutter
I've been wanting to blog lately--mostly because this medium is a good place to think clearly--unlike real journaling, it's expedient (though not required, of course) that this actually make some sense to someone living outside of my head. Or at least that's what I tell myself. So I rarely write here unless I feel I have something relatively coherent to say. And sometimes it helps: laying out the ideas in neater file folders than the messy desk-top inside will ever compile. But the clutter feels like it's spilled over; the folders are buried under two weeks of back-log, and I can't seem to find them. So this time it's the clutter.
Maybe that's the problem--lately it's been mostly questions, mostly circling back to the same, same-looking pile of stones. I know I've been here before, but I can't break out of the lost-circles that always lead me back. I tell myself there really are no instant answers to any of these questions--not ones that mean anything. But it doesn't always help.
And I'm writing in riddles. I know, but my real thoughts feel too private or too befuddled to voice to anyone but a few close friends. Still others remain altogether removed from it all--at the mercy of only my internal dialogue: an iffy place to put them at times. Which is why I'm learning to leave less of them there--learning slowly that is--because openness isn't natural to me. Mostly I've waited until someone prodded it out, but the problem there is that you can end up waiting a long time. Radical thought isn't it? That you might have to ask for help to get it.
It's interesting to write about this--I'm wrestling over the same sort of issue for my Capstone essay. The piece is about fear--and I'm wondering how deep I want to go into some of mine. I know I need to go deeper. I knew what my advisor would say about the first draft before she said it. I even said it myself while writing it. But it's hard to voice for others the things you've buried when you don't want to look at them yourself. There are boundaries, of course, healthy boundaries that need to exist. Yet the boundaries I set in the past are too small--they don't let me see reality. It's hard to do though, stepping over these old boundaries. However much I'd like to think of them as gone, there are times when they still throb like an amputee's ghost limb.
Maybe that's the problem--lately it's been mostly questions, mostly circling back to the same, same-looking pile of stones. I know I've been here before, but I can't break out of the lost-circles that always lead me back. I tell myself there really are no instant answers to any of these questions--not ones that mean anything. But it doesn't always help.
And I'm writing in riddles. I know, but my real thoughts feel too private or too befuddled to voice to anyone but a few close friends. Still others remain altogether removed from it all--at the mercy of only my internal dialogue: an iffy place to put them at times. Which is why I'm learning to leave less of them there--learning slowly that is--because openness isn't natural to me. Mostly I've waited until someone prodded it out, but the problem there is that you can end up waiting a long time. Radical thought isn't it? That you might have to ask for help to get it.
It's interesting to write about this--I'm wrestling over the same sort of issue for my Capstone essay. The piece is about fear--and I'm wondering how deep I want to go into some of mine. I know I need to go deeper. I knew what my advisor would say about the first draft before she said it. I even said it myself while writing it. But it's hard to voice for others the things you've buried when you don't want to look at them yourself. There are boundaries, of course, healthy boundaries that need to exist. Yet the boundaries I set in the past are too small--they don't let me see reality. It's hard to do though, stepping over these old boundaries. However much I'd like to think of them as gone, there are times when they still throb like an amputee's ghost limb.
posted by Mandy at 11:01 PM
1 Comments:
Hey Mandy! I just got introduced to the "English department" blogspots...lol. Anyhow, I hate the words "0 comments," so I thought I'd post something.
Seriously, though, I did really "resonate" with what you said. It's so hard, especially with the crazy schedules and scattered workloads and fragments of a "life" outside school, to just be focused enough to want to take the time to sort out the clutter. This can be evidenced by the physical state of my desk right now. But it's also true of my capstone project. I need some space. But that's hard to come by...
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