Limboland - Just Passing Through

Do you ever get the feeling you're trapped between where you are and where you're supposed to be? You know, wedged in that awkward, cramped, growing-out-of-your-shoes place. That stuffy, running-low-on-oxygen, throw-me-a-line place.
Let's call it Limboland.
It's a perpetual state of waiting. You can see things there, although they're a long way off. The best part is that they are in sight. The worst is that you can't quite reach them. Yet.
It's Limboland.
If you have no patience there you're basically screwed. No amount of mental maneuvers will help to quell the itch. You tell yourself it's a growth thing. You shake off the mood when it strikes and pull out the nearest mantra you can find; preferably one that can soothe you.
Like Joseph Campbell's words: We must let go of the life we have planned, so as to accept the one that is waiting for us.
You try your best to philosophize, be bigger, better than you feel deep down inside.
Wear your bravest face, your brightest, shiniest smile.
You can fool most of the people some of the time. But you can't fool yourself. Ever.
It's Limboland. The mirrors there point inward. The reflection is what you'd prefer not to see.
Mostly it's just about hurry up and wait. That age-weary conundrum.
2010's been a great deal of Limboland for me. That said, there were good moments. Some very, very good moments. Greasing-the-wheel moments.
And now my wish for 2011... I hope to set those wheels in motion and roll. Even if it's a slow roll. There's always 2012 to pick up the speed.
I long to leave Limboland behind. It's a great place to visit but you don't want to forward your mail there. It's best to pass right on through.

Merry Christmas to All

To E-Read or not to E-Read

As usual, the week before Christmas finds me doing the obvious. Spring cleaning. I think it's the newly acquired clutter; the boxes, bells and whistles of the season. Makes me want to purge. Makes me want to toss just about everything that isn't tied down. (Being sufficiently claustrophobic lends itself to this subconscious need.)
So there I was, assessing the clutter in my bedroom where one entire large armoir is designated to house my ever-mounting collection of books. I hadn't realized how colossal this gathering had become. After I packed up a care package to donate to a friend, I pondered the age-new dilemma:
Should I get one of those E-Readers? Like the Kindle, or the Nook?
Pros - I do love technology.
It's better for the environment (less destruction of trees, less waste)
Any book at your fingertips in a matter of minutes
Save a trip to the bookstore
Cons - You can't smell the pages
You can't hold that binding in your hands
At some point it may run out of battery power
No trips to the bookstore
(Sigh)
The debate rages on.
Still I think if Santa's listening I might, just maybe, err on the side of the pros. If for no other reason than to keep up with the flow of the times as they roll on by. So, if one of those E-Readers, like the Kindle or the Nook should happen down my chimney...I wouldn't be too upset. After all, if I begin to experience the signs of withdrawl, if I am overcome by the desire to have an ACTUAL book in my hands, thankfully I can always do so.
That is all. Dustpan, please.

Kitchen Chat with Margaret McSweeney and Tricia Crisafulli

The Other Side of Leaving

Fifteen minutes ago I dropped her off (the first born, the Independent Spirit) at a bright and shiny University a couple hours from home where they would teach her a thing or two or three.
Fifteen minutes ago I had no idea how I was going to get along without her.

Fifteen minutes ago I said I wouldn't cry (but I did anyway.)
Fifteen minutes ago I imagined she'd be away forever.
And fifteen minutes ago I fell into a time machine. It morphed minutes into days and days into years - 3 and 1/2 of them to be exact.
Now it seems I'm on the other side of the leaving. The first born, the Independent Spirit is coming home again. To stay. Graduating early. She's bright and shiny, too.
Sound the bells.
Alert the media.
Batten down the hatches.
As the saying goes..."she's baaaaackkk."
What goes around really does come around.
In fifteen minutes - give or take.

Take Good Care

The literary world lost one fine author today. Elizabeth Edwards was perhaps best known for being the estranged wife of the politician whose indiscretions made headlines (and allowed another undeserving woman her 15 minutes of fame.) Elizabeth Edwards was also a breast cancer victim.

But she was a writer, too. Her books are more than accounts of her trials & tribulations, her illness, her family, the scandal. They are the story of a life. Her words were beautifully crafted as in this excerpt from "Resilience..." wherein she describes her father: "...the images of my well father, strong and full of life, gathered on top of one another. Eating a hot pepper from his garden in Naples and thinking it a green pepper, his face goes flush, tears fills his eyes, his glasses fog up, but he chews on." Gorgeous. This book is on my nightstand now and I look forward to reading on.

I wanted to take a moment to wish the family of Ms. Edwards my condolences at their tremendous loss. I also wish to make a public service announcement about the importance of being as diligent as possible about getting yearly exams. This is of the utmost urgency for women but men should take good care, too.

May God bless and keep you close, Elizabeth.