So. It's amazing what a little resolve can do for a gal. I have believed for some time that we posess and amazing ability to determine our trajectory. As mentioned before in other posts, there is something to be said about fate--it moves us forward in certain ways but is in no way an independant actor on the paths of our lives.
Today is the last day of July. And it was a good day. In the midst of all that is swirling around in the eye of my own personal hurricane, I am beginning to think that with my head down and eyes on course, the next month is going to be breathtaking.
I have 9 more days of work. My how far we've come this summer. I use the collective we--everyone who has stuck on through the most depressing posts ever, as well as the fellow summers who are feeling the weight that is this law firm bearing down on us. Nah, we're not through the hardest of it all, I don't think there really is a "hardest" in this kind of thing, but it's kind of like those last few weeks of winter. Tentatively looking outside each morning to make sure a NorEaster has not crept in, and beginning to see a little green bud of life poking through the snow. I do love drama, but I think anyone can get the idea.
August will be a great month. Will I get an offer from the firm? In ten days I'll know. Here is what I know right now, on July 31st, 2007: In the next 30 days I will move into a home with rooms of my own; I will road trip up to Vermont with two of my favorite Vermont turned DC gals and spend a weekend on Lake Champlain drinking wine, floating in the water, twirling in the sun, and blowing kisses to the stars; I will throw sticks to Phoebe the Dog in my backyard and grill veggies with my parents and listen to the crickets talk; I'll host a housewarming party/birthday party/revolution of life for myself and everyone I know; I will finally let go of all the rest; I will be happy.
None of the above are negotiable. They are givens and only a supreme act of fate can make me change my course. Sometimes being a little lost is kind of exciting. In the process of finding yourself you get the opportunity and excuse to open your eyes really wide and rediscover everything that has been obscured underneath that shroud.
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
Sunday, July 29, 2007
A Tale of Two Cities
What is it about new cities that makes things a little clearer? I think it is the feeling of freshness--of everything being new, a little exciting, kind of scary and very anonymous. An ability to reinvent who you are, even for a few days, in a place where no one knows your day to day routines and habits, habitual haunts or skeletons that peek out from your closet. The feeling of being lost and found all at the same time.
I was in Chicago this past week. Ostensibly for work but secretly to see if this change of scenery would suit me. Moving from the shores of the Potomac to those of Lake Michigan in an attempt to find an answer to a question that I am not sure I can even articulate now. Driving in from the airport to a skyline dotted with daunting buildings rather than low lying monuments, on streets that were dominated by cabs rather than personal cars, in an office on the 39th floor gazing down at the boats on the lake, Indiana in the distance, picnic blankets on the amphitheatre rather than looking from the 12th floor onto the home of the President.
I am at the point where I think I need to shake things up, make a change in my life. I have been searching for something not only the past 2 months, but since embarking on this journey of law school as well. And I think in every journey, whether it is to the grocery store, through grad school, wandering through the abyss of dating, or meandering through life, we all occasionally get lost. But I think there are different levels--ranging from turning a virtual corner, ending up in a real bad neighborhood, recognizing it immediately, and correcting your path as quickly as you strayed off course. And then there is when you find yourself in, what I like to call, the abyss of what the fuck. Where up is suddenly down, things that are tried and true seem to be failing, where you find comfort in the most unlikely places and people and no matter how often you close your eyes and hold your breath and click the heels of your ruby red wedges, when you look back up you're still in the same place.
A lot of what I have blogged about this summer has lead me to the stark realization that I am ensconced in my own abyss of what the fuck. I was sitting in Chicago, looking out my window onto the shores of Lake Michigan when it became clear that all of these different threads that I have written about largely in an individual manner have woven into a thick shroud that I am not sure how to come out from under. Actually. That's a lie. I do know how to come out from under it, or at least start peeking out once again from under it. But it's hard and unpleasant and I hate being forced into self confrontation. That's not to say that I am averse from taking responsibility for my own turns in the road that has left me stranded in this abyss--I just hate knowing that when I turn around and start trying to get myself out of this abyss, there will be people who will have to be cast away--those who I have held onto and put unnatural faith in and who seem to have powers that bring out some good and a lot of bad. And I know that even being on the road back I will most likely make some missteps and the path is not going to be..clear.
So Chicago. It feels like it's a million miles away (ok ok, 659 miles away) but right now I have this twitching in my gut that says it might be the end of this road back. But that's getting ahead of myself. It can be a lonely journey--much of what is in your head and heart--and it's scary. Searching for a path that is not wholly clear even for the explorer is daunting. I'm kind of hoping to stumble onto a magic map that will give me all the answers. Until then, I'm stuck with dusting off whatever compass still exists within me, strapping on the hiking boots and hoping that I meet some of the kind and deep souls along this journey that have graced those in the past. And as always, continuing to keep a little faith in myself, since, well, it's gotten me this far, right?
I was in Chicago this past week. Ostensibly for work but secretly to see if this change of scenery would suit me. Moving from the shores of the Potomac to those of Lake Michigan in an attempt to find an answer to a question that I am not sure I can even articulate now. Driving in from the airport to a skyline dotted with daunting buildings rather than low lying monuments, on streets that were dominated by cabs rather than personal cars, in an office on the 39th floor gazing down at the boats on the lake, Indiana in the distance, picnic blankets on the amphitheatre rather than looking from the 12th floor onto the home of the President.
I am at the point where I think I need to shake things up, make a change in my life. I have been searching for something not only the past 2 months, but since embarking on this journey of law school as well. And I think in every journey, whether it is to the grocery store, through grad school, wandering through the abyss of dating, or meandering through life, we all occasionally get lost. But I think there are different levels--ranging from turning a virtual corner, ending up in a real bad neighborhood, recognizing it immediately, and correcting your path as quickly as you strayed off course. And then there is when you find yourself in, what I like to call, the abyss of what the fuck. Where up is suddenly down, things that are tried and true seem to be failing, where you find comfort in the most unlikely places and people and no matter how often you close your eyes and hold your breath and click the heels of your ruby red wedges, when you look back up you're still in the same place.
A lot of what I have blogged about this summer has lead me to the stark realization that I am ensconced in my own abyss of what the fuck. I was sitting in Chicago, looking out my window onto the shores of Lake Michigan when it became clear that all of these different threads that I have written about largely in an individual manner have woven into a thick shroud that I am not sure how to come out from under. Actually. That's a lie. I do know how to come out from under it, or at least start peeking out once again from under it. But it's hard and unpleasant and I hate being forced into self confrontation. That's not to say that I am averse from taking responsibility for my own turns in the road that has left me stranded in this abyss--I just hate knowing that when I turn around and start trying to get myself out of this abyss, there will be people who will have to be cast away--those who I have held onto and put unnatural faith in and who seem to have powers that bring out some good and a lot of bad. And I know that even being on the road back I will most likely make some missteps and the path is not going to be..clear.
So Chicago. It feels like it's a million miles away (ok ok, 659 miles away) but right now I have this twitching in my gut that says it might be the end of this road back. But that's getting ahead of myself. It can be a lonely journey--much of what is in your head and heart--and it's scary. Searching for a path that is not wholly clear even for the explorer is daunting. I'm kind of hoping to stumble onto a magic map that will give me all the answers. Until then, I'm stuck with dusting off whatever compass still exists within me, strapping on the hiking boots and hoping that I meet some of the kind and deep souls along this journey that have graced those in the past. And as always, continuing to keep a little faith in myself, since, well, it's gotten me this far, right?
Friday, July 06, 2007
Collect Ephemera
I caught some flack from a few loyal readers (thanks mom) about the removal of what had been my most recent post. I am not going to repost it, because I didn't feel it fair to the person who was causing the sadness and pain that it described. As I said, I don't know who reads this thing, and having addressed the situation privately it just didn't seem...prudent.
But I stick by my stained glass assertion and the need to let light in to catch the most compelling reflections that make up the intracacies of individuals. So there you have it. Moving on.
This week's topic is going to stray a bit from the angst ridden posts of my life in a law firm to something far far more joyous--my darling and wonderful sister's upcoming wedding which is taking place in 8 days. Not surprisingly, this momentous event has caused me to contemplate a number of different emotions surrounding weddings. Both for the bride to be, as well as for those who are merely the spectators and revelers in such an occasion.
Being a witness (albeit a distant one down here in DC) to the preparation of marriage has definitely made me pause a little bit. Watching this gorgeous person who I have known my entire life go through the processes of marriage makes wonder where the past 28 years have gone. When did we grow up? How is this possible?
My AP English teacher in high school gave my class some great advice before we graduated. She told us wherever we went and whatever we did, to collect ephemera. It is in the passing moments, she explained, the ones the glimmer and fade quickly, that create the fullest patchwork of our memory and experience. This conversation and piece of advice has come up a few times in the last few days and J's marriage makes me wander back through the ephemeral moments that I've caught with her since high school. I was looking at photos the other night--one in our backyard the day J came home from camp for a day off with her gals, the two of us standing, arms around each other, while her friend took a photo from the ground. I remember the day clearly--it was a gorgeous Vermont summer day, I had been working at the pool, they all came down to swim whisked me back home before they had to take back off for camp.
Or a night more recently, after parents had gone off to bed and my sister and I sat bundled on the front porch on a very quiet winter's night drinking wine and talking about past sadnesses and regrets, while gaining a deeper respect for the similarities we share.
Or my freshman year, sitting in my college dorm room alone, crying my eyes out after finding out that my legs weren't well enough to put me back in the boat for our race against Cornell, that my whole family was going to attend, and that I would not be going to, and getting an email with a small stanza from The Boxer and the quiet words of encouragement and support.
Coming home from Mali and watching my sister bounce past security before I had made it out of the secured area to be the first to embrace me.
I could go on and on. But some of my favorite ephemeral moments will remain ours to share. The point being--looking at some of these moments I see the richness and grace that has been infused into my life through them. And I watch a woman prepare to get married and feel a deep sense of joy and respect, knowing that the moments with us will continue regardless of age or place or relationship status.
I am so very very proud of the steps that have led my sister to this marriage that is coming so quickly and the moments we have shared along the way.
But I stick by my stained glass assertion and the need to let light in to catch the most compelling reflections that make up the intracacies of individuals. So there you have it. Moving on.
This week's topic is going to stray a bit from the angst ridden posts of my life in a law firm to something far far more joyous--my darling and wonderful sister's upcoming wedding which is taking place in 8 days. Not surprisingly, this momentous event has caused me to contemplate a number of different emotions surrounding weddings. Both for the bride to be, as well as for those who are merely the spectators and revelers in such an occasion.
Being a witness (albeit a distant one down here in DC) to the preparation of marriage has definitely made me pause a little bit. Watching this gorgeous person who I have known my entire life go through the processes of marriage makes wonder where the past 28 years have gone. When did we grow up? How is this possible?
My AP English teacher in high school gave my class some great advice before we graduated. She told us wherever we went and whatever we did, to collect ephemera. It is in the passing moments, she explained, the ones the glimmer and fade quickly, that create the fullest patchwork of our memory and experience. This conversation and piece of advice has come up a few times in the last few days and J's marriage makes me wander back through the ephemeral moments that I've caught with her since high school. I was looking at photos the other night--one in our backyard the day J came home from camp for a day off with her gals, the two of us standing, arms around each other, while her friend took a photo from the ground. I remember the day clearly--it was a gorgeous Vermont summer day, I had been working at the pool, they all came down to swim whisked me back home before they had to take back off for camp.
Or a night more recently, after parents had gone off to bed and my sister and I sat bundled on the front porch on a very quiet winter's night drinking wine and talking about past sadnesses and regrets, while gaining a deeper respect for the similarities we share.
Or my freshman year, sitting in my college dorm room alone, crying my eyes out after finding out that my legs weren't well enough to put me back in the boat for our race against Cornell, that my whole family was going to attend, and that I would not be going to, and getting an email with a small stanza from The Boxer and the quiet words of encouragement and support.
Coming home from Mali and watching my sister bounce past security before I had made it out of the secured area to be the first to embrace me.
I could go on and on. But some of my favorite ephemeral moments will remain ours to share. The point being--looking at some of these moments I see the richness and grace that has been infused into my life through them. And I watch a woman prepare to get married and feel a deep sense of joy and respect, knowing that the moments with us will continue regardless of age or place or relationship status.
I am so very very proud of the steps that have led my sister to this marriage that is coming so quickly and the moments we have shared along the way.
Sunday, July 01, 2007
Go See 'Evening'
This movie is astounding. I think ever mother, sister and best friend should see it.
There are no mistakes. There is life. We move with purpose and grace. We are mysterious creatures.
Go see Evening.
There are no mistakes. There is life. We move with purpose and grace. We are mysterious creatures.
Go see Evening.
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