Writing

Do you ever just not feel like doing something you love?  Like tonight, how I just so totally don’t feel like writing anything, even though I actually love writing.  Yet, I write anyway, because I want to maintain the habit of writing, even and especially when I’m not feeling it or feel as though I have nothing valuable to write.  Otherwise, I could see myself going right back to how I first started writing, but then only wrote around once a month, because I didn’t feel like I had something valuable enough to write about.  Virginia Woolf mentioned in her (ridiculously long) essay called “A Room of One’s Own”, how it is important for women – the whole thing was about women – to write, no matter what they have to write about, because they are able to express their genius and artistry by writing.  And so, even if the writing is only valued for a day or for a year, it is still important to write it, she said.*

I have much to do over these next handful of days, and I would like to accomplish it all (and well), because I quite possibly will have more added on at the end of them, which is just a bit absurd when being added to what I already have to accomplish by a few weeks from now.  P-hsh—— (That was like a sigh, but with my teeth closed.)  Just like Fuji-san, it’s bothersome to do, but I know I can do this, and that’s exactly why I don’t want to do it.  😛

*Fun fact: I used the word ‘said’, and it is actually correct, because the essay was published out of two speeches Virginia Would gave to Cambridge women’s colleges around 1928 and 1929.  (One of those was Newnham College, which is where my best friend studied and where I visited and stayed briefly!)  So, she really did say the information, even though she also wrote it.

Post-a-day 2018

Kokopelli and breakthroughs

Today, I talked to a girl briefly about Kokopelli.  She had one on her sweatshirt sleeve, and I asked her if she liked him.  I absolutely love him, and my love showed as I spoke about him to her.  A girl who normally says nothing at all to me, and who oddly declined any sort of interaction with me when I previously asked her any kind of question, this girl seemed intrigued by my delight in Kokopelli.  I asked her if she knew him, anything about him, and she looked right at me and shook her head.  At my somewhat comedic disbelief, she even smiled a little bit, and her eyes had a slight glisten, sparkle, to them.  “Oh, my gosh!  Look him up.  I love him!” I told her, and then proceeded to tell her a few basics about him, as well as saying at least a couple more times how he is awesome and I love him.

It was a great interaction, and I was (and still am) incredibly grateful for it.  In addition to that one, I had several other interactions that felt like my relationships with the people had reached a turning point – at last, there is comfort, ease, and openness.  Today was just filled with fabulous interactions.  I am grateful and delighted.

Post-a-day 2017 

Freedom’s Indecision

The trouble with having freedom in my future is that freedom can sometimes means too many options to focus.  Right now, I know what I am doing for the next six weeks.  After that, I’m really not sure.  My current job will be finished, and so my life is open to options from there on out.  What will I do next?  I have total freedom (within the bounds of financial abilities, of course).  And with that freedom comes an uncountable number of possibilities for what I could end up doing.

It feels like I have a new path I am considering pursuing almost every day.  One almost could ask me, “What’s today’s fancy, Hannah?”  And I’d have a different answer almost every day.  A week ago, I wasn’t too sure about my cat, and I found myself wondering that I rather preferred his living with a family with other cats, and who wants him.  This weekend, I have felt as though all I want is to move into my own apartment and to live with my cat again.  (Despite the fact that I said several times this past year that I probably never want to live alone again.)

Talking with my stepbrother tonight, I find myself really wanting to pursue coaching and teaching.  It has me wonder if I don’t just get excited about other people’s dreams and their passions, and I long to have the dream, the desire, the passion that they have about something, as opposed to the actual something.  Do I want to coach and teach, or do I simply want the clear desire and love that my stepbrother showed for the two activities tonight?  To be fair, I really did love coaching lacrosse (assistant coaching, anyway), so I’m not looking at something in which I have no background or foundation here.  Nonetheless, it is still something into which I am looking regarding my future and my means of making money.

Anyway, … that’s what I have for tonight…

 

Post-a-day 2017

Heart-ing Accents

I love accents.

Tonight, walking home from an incredible sprint to the train station, which was through the ridiculously cold weather (causing my throat, all the way down into my chest, to burn most of the way back home), in order for a friend to catch the last train home for the night, I called up a different friend of mine, just to check in and say a ten-minute “Hello.”

Now, I don’t have many acquaintances who are Australian, and I see and speak with them rather rarely.  So, whenever I talk with this particular friend, who, naturally, is Australian, I am delighted with the mini surprises the accent provides me in conversation.  I am accustomed to the British and Canadian and US English accents, and even the New Zealander accent.  But that Australian one just drives me so goofy (Yes, I realize that is not a standard phrase, but let’s roll with it, shall we?  Yes, let’s.), I get a rush of joy and giggles when it pops out, differentiating itself from the other accents to which I am accustomed.

I’m not sure how this love for accents developed, but I have a hunch it was in our societal view of foreign accents.  For some reason, it is always the foreigner who is exotic and desirable above all others in a TV show or movie, or even book.  Sure, they are different from our everyday, but they are just like loads of other people in their own home countries.  (You know, this really doesn’t make much sense, where I have this heading…)  So, yes, they are different and thereby exotic when they are here, and not when they are back in their home countries.  But why must they be so portrayed as desirable, sexy?  How did that get decided, I wonder?  Just a wondering, I have…

Anyway, the point of all of this was that my friend has an Australian accent, which is a new thing for me (my first full-time Australian friend, you see), and it always surprises me when things end up being pronounced a different way than I had subconsciously expected, and it makes me smile and giggle with delight every time.  So, thank you, God, for the cuteness and wonderfulness of various accents in our world.  🙂

 

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