un moment à refléter.
While I was visiting my homeland this past memorial day weekend, I dropped by my house in arkansas to, almost reluctantly, pick up several boxes of memorabilia that I have acquired over the last decade or so of my life. Today I started sorting through these dusty remembrances and found all the calendars that I had always failed to throw away. 2002, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, and 2008... among many other things that so many of us hold on to in an effort not to forget - for one reason or another. Old matchbooks - Andy's Jazz Club in Chicago, etc, etc... Old blue essay books - "The art and architecture of India, etc, etc... I'm sure in an effort to retain the knowledge that I paid so dearly for: monetarily and psychologically.
I've become a bit lax as of late in writing on my calendars (three at the present: dry erase, desk, and pocket) I realize just now, with a glass of wine at my side and my little napoleon beneath me, why. All the years of planning for things was nothing more than, as de beauvois so eloquently put it, the promise of happiness.
On the first day of eighth grade Coach Thompson asked our entire class what we defined success as. I will never forget it. When I answered, it was the same feeling I got when Sister Celestine asked us who wanted to be soldiers and who wanted to be dolls in our third grade christmas musical. (I was laughed at and ended up being a dumb ass doll.) One by one Coach Thompson went around the room. When she got to me I said very firmly until it reached the end of my lips, "wanting nothing more." She said "Heather, you might as well die, if you have nothing left you want." I still hold to that answer. That's why my calendar doesn't need me as much these days. Je suis finalement où je dois être. Apparently, I needed to look back just a little bit to - atleast for the moment - stop looking forward.
(me waiting tables on halloween as the ghost of christmas present - get it, I love santa.)
I've become a bit lax as of late in writing on my calendars (three at the present: dry erase, desk, and pocket) I realize just now, with a glass of wine at my side and my little napoleon beneath me, why. All the years of planning for things was nothing more than, as de beauvois so eloquently put it, the promise of happiness.
On the first day of eighth grade Coach Thompson asked our entire class what we defined success as. I will never forget it. When I answered, it was the same feeling I got when Sister Celestine asked us who wanted to be soldiers and who wanted to be dolls in our third grade christmas musical. (I was laughed at and ended up being a dumb ass doll.) One by one Coach Thompson went around the room. When she got to me I said very firmly until it reached the end of my lips, "wanting nothing more." She said "Heather, you might as well die, if you have nothing left you want." I still hold to that answer. That's why my calendar doesn't need me as much these days. Je suis finalement où je dois être. Apparently, I needed to look back just a little bit to - atleast for the moment - stop looking forward.(me waiting tables on halloween as the ghost of christmas present - get it, I love santa.)
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