Intensity

I don't recall ever watching an inauguration. I had a lot of work to do yesterday. I mean I am seriously behind in work. I thought I could have NPR playing the coverage in the background and be really productive. Just that morning I was mentioning my apathy towards events that are otherwise viewed as momentous. Oklahoma City, 9/11, Olympics, Indonesian tsunami, Chinese earthquake. I have a cerebral understanding of their importance, I just don't feel their importance. I have at times thought my response was odd. It's not that I think I have no connection to these events-- my brother spent weeks attending multiple daily funerals when 1/3 of his office perished in the South tower of the World Trade Center. And still I felt nothing. It made an interesting story. But I felt nothing.

So, yesterday morning I was sitting on my floor sorting through piles of paperwork, listening to the Inauguration coverage, and I couldn't stop crying. Not sobbing, but a constant tightness in my throat and tears rolling down my cheeks. I eventually just turned on the tv, still crying. And then the thought occurred to me: I have an intensely emotional reaction to momentous events, I just rarely let myself succumb to the intensity. I don't think I go around bottling up my emotions. But somewhere in my life I developed the pattern of witnessing and quickly processing information, whatever it may be, in order to be ready for the next event. I 'm sure it's a coping mechanism that has helped me manage difficult situations without being paralyzed by emotion. So, I think it serves a positive function in my life. But this realization has made me wonder what other effect it has had on me. How would my life experience be changed by consciously attempting to experience the full emotional impact of a situation?

Why

OK, so why am I doing this? I've been a blog lurker for maybe a year and a half. Not too often, but a few people I know had blogs and I read them, never commenting. Much too self conscious. But periodically I would have some thoughts I wanted to jot down. Hey, I am approaching middle age so I am completely comfortable with pen and paper. But I am also an amazing typist, and this is much, much faster and easier. Actually, I consider typing to be THE most useful high school class. In what would later become pretty damn ironic, I was placed in high school typing after being kicked out of my first computer class (typing was prerequisite, duh). So now I can type 70+ words per minute, but computers intimidate the hell out of me. Damn.

But I digress. The actual impetus for starting this was from slate.com, a new feature called The Happiness Project by Gretchen Rubin. If I knew computers better, I would link to it here. I'll talk to some people and hopefully get that worked out. So she challenges folks to begin their own happiness project. That might sound a little hokey. But as mentioned above . . . I'm approaching middle age. Which doesn't feel quite (nearly!) as old as I thought it would. But neither did turning 21 so I shouldn't have been surprised. Also, I used to be an interesting person. I used to write poetry, journal, take artistic photos, have deep thoughts. What happened to me? Having kids, going to school, getting a job, cleaning my house. Maybe a little gift to myself would be to celebrate the beginning of my fifth decade (oh my god, that sounds even worse than 40) by reflecting on past, present, future. When I was in high school, I did a project that I titled Reflections of a Drowning Vegetable and on the cover drew a carrot sinking in the deep blue sea--an allusion to feeling like I was drowning in my own depth. I no longer feel like a drowning vegetable. Overall, I'm pretty happy. But I would like a little more depth and reflection in my life. So this is as good a place to start as any.

The Beginning

I tried to title this Piso Mojado, no particular reason just like the phrase. That was taken, so this is next best. I hate to settle, but will try to be at peace.