You’re probably wondering where I’ve been. At least, I imagine you have been wondering where I’ve been. But who is it I imagine you are?
In the echo chamber of a blog whom do I picture as my “audience”—through the endless and erratic monologue—obviously, I most often picture myself.
And who am I? That’s a good question. I am a Caucasian male in his 30s who writes for a living and sits interminably in front of computers. Shocked?
“And I have known the eyes already, known them all--
The eyes that fix you in a formulated phrase,
And when I am formulated, sprawling on a pin,
When I am pinned and wriggling on the wall,
Then how should I begin
To spit out all the butt-ends of my days, and ways?
And how should I presume?”
The long pauses in postings here are the result of ongoing changes. My life is undergoing such radical and rapid change that I lately find myself with little time to reflect. Or is it? Is there a momentum to the experiences I have now or is it that I’m just entering new cycles?
“For I have known them all already, known them all--
Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,
I have measured out my life with coffee spoons…”
All experience is new in that each moment is different from the last, but is there a path? I sometimes feel like this part of my life has more direction than previous ones. Some days I feel like I am at the beginning of a new adventure and others at the end.
“There will be time, there will be time
To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;
There will be time to murder and create,
And time for all the works and days of hands
That lift and drop a question on your plate;
Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions, and revisions,
Before the taking of a toast and tea.”
T.S. Eliot used to say that he took meaningless clerk jobs in order to free his mind for his life’s work after hours. That’s an excellent justification for clinging to stability.
How am I? I’m great. Life is comfortable and happy once again. The desperation of the recent past has left me and I have moments of peace—and yet…
I sometimes tire of always working with a net.