Hello vacuum of space!
So, today is day 2 of my new blog, and I wanted to begin
expanding on some of the things I want to accomplish in this coming year, and
why.
I have three main goals, though
they are very closely related.
Ultimately, I want a life that is fulfilling, and I believe these will
help push me toward that.
Life Goal Number One: Feed the engines.
I have also listed this as one of my commandments. This is of the Utmost Importance; it’s worth
repeating! By this I mean, take in the raw material that I need to start my
brain up again, and keep the fires burning.
So, no more Netflix, no more killing time walking through the mall. From now on, I go back to the source. I have a few ideas on this (like I said in
my last post, I have been thinking about this renaissance for about a
year. Yes, I have ideas.) I will read books, fiction, non-fiction, and
poetry. I will listen to podcasts and
radio programs on a variety of subjects: economics, history, This American
Life, others (please, offer recommendations!).
I will listen to music that is new to me. I will go for walks, and aim toward a
healthier lifestyle. I may (I hope) go
back to school, and I will take online courses.
(For example, I just saw this yesterday, https://www.coursera.org but this link
offers free online classes from a whole bunch of universities. You don’t get credit for them, and you don’t
pay for them, but it’s nice to think in this critical way again. It’s also a good way to learn a new subject
risk-free.) I will (eventually) explore local events (poetry readings, book
clubs, shows, parades, festivals, etc.) I will try new things, learn new skills
and relearn old ones. I will get my
brain back to its peak working condition.
Life Goal Number Two: Become a writer.
I want to create. Ultimately, this is the goal. This is a very high-falutin goal, I understand. I don’t talk about it much (except to Sam,
because he took a vow and is required to listen to me), because until I actually
accomplish something, it sounds fairly pretentious. I have been in a slump for a long time, but
even though I have thought about other careers and tried to imagine myself in
one, it never seems quite right, like I am deliberately closing the door on the
right thing. It’s a sad feeling and is
to be avoided.
Ultimately though, writing takes time, and real
concentration, and fresh ideas. I need
to cultivate these qualities in myself again.
I want to use my brain. I want to
do work that I love and feel passionately about, and fascinated by, so that it
is not a job I leave at five o’clock, but a continuous act of creation. I want a “Life’s work”, not something I grit
my teeth through for forty hours a week.
So, Life Goal Number Three: Find a
job that can put me on the path toward happiness. Learn everything I can. Become indispensible.
I like people (mostly), I am
fairly intelligent and a quick learner, and I am very willing to work for what
I want. Some lucky employer in the Twin
Cities area is eventually going to recognize my value. Of course.
It will be great. And we’ll be so
happy together on that day.
So, to leave you, I want to offer
you all one of my favorite poems. It’s
been in my wallet for five years, as a reminder. It’s worth reading, I promise.
The Layers
I have walked through many lives,
some of them my own,
and I am not who I was,
though some principle of being
abides, from which I struggle
not to stray.
When I look behind,
as I am compelled to look
before I can gather strength
to proceed on my journey,
I see the milestones dwindling
toward the horizon
and the slow fires trailing
from the abandoned camp-sites,
over which scavenger angels
wheel on heavy wings.
Oh, I have made myself a tribe
out of my true affections,
and my tribe is scattered!
How shall the heart be reconciled
to its feast of losses?
In a rising wind
the manic dust of my friends,
those who fell along the way,
bitterly stings my face,
Yet I turn, I turn,
exulting somewhat,
with my will intact to go
wherever I need to go,
and every stone on the road
precious to me.
In my darkest night,
when the moon was covered
and I roamed through wreckage,
a nimbus-clouded voice
directed me:
“Live in the layers,
not on the litter.”
Though I lack the art
to decipher it,
no doubt the next chapter
in my book of transformations
is already written.
I am not done with my changes.
(also available here: http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/242450)
