gasping for breath.
it's good to be back.
My baby, my love and substance- that's right, my laptop, currently has a virus so violent that I am unable to log into windows. The lovely computerman has told me that in order to make it work again I will lose all of my files. That's cool, I retorted- just all the evidence, both textual and photographic, of over a year in another country. an influential year of development. wiped out. sounds great, sign me up. While I am very sad to be losing all of these records, the time away has really revealed how materialistic I am (even though I think I'm sooo not.) Why am I so dependent on a machine? Why am I so trusting of something I can't even touch? Perhaps the ease and speed of it all got me ahead of myself, but I will be sure to be more cautious in the future. I will back the files up, and treat my handheld journal with a little more respect. In fact, I got a new pen this evening to console myself. It's not as sweet as the Pilot GTech C4, but it's a pretty close second. It has a .25mm tip.
The night before my computer died (last week) I wrote for the first time in a long time, with encouragement from two dear friends of mine. Finally I was able to connect the thoughts swimming around inside my brain with the emotions that were tugging my heart. I wrote down things that helped me understand a few blurry thoughts. For the past few months all of my thoughts, ideas, and actions have been murky, and I have been longing for a sense of pointedness, of purpose to inspire focus. That evening I started feeling a sense of clarity. Or at least the coming of it. Interestingly, this is happening at a time when all around me is preparing for the season of hibernation. My re-awakening has me feeling like springtime. Like growth and movement are soon to come. Well, I did always have to be different.
Still, there are unanswered questions and things that deserve more consideration. For now, let's take it one day at a time.
My baby, my love and substance- that's right, my laptop, currently has a virus so violent that I am unable to log into windows. The lovely computerman has told me that in order to make it work again I will lose all of my files. That's cool, I retorted- just all the evidence, both textual and photographic, of over a year in another country. an influential year of development. wiped out. sounds great, sign me up. While I am very sad to be losing all of these records, the time away has really revealed how materialistic I am (even though I think I'm sooo not.) Why am I so dependent on a machine? Why am I so trusting of something I can't even touch? Perhaps the ease and speed of it all got me ahead of myself, but I will be sure to be more cautious in the future. I will back the files up, and treat my handheld journal with a little more respect. In fact, I got a new pen this evening to console myself. It's not as sweet as the Pilot GTech C4, but it's a pretty close second. It has a .25mm tip.
The night before my computer died (last week) I wrote for the first time in a long time, with encouragement from two dear friends of mine. Finally I was able to connect the thoughts swimming around inside my brain with the emotions that were tugging my heart. I wrote down things that helped me understand a few blurry thoughts. For the past few months all of my thoughts, ideas, and actions have been murky, and I have been longing for a sense of pointedness, of purpose to inspire focus. That evening I started feeling a sense of clarity. Or at least the coming of it. Interestingly, this is happening at a time when all around me is preparing for the season of hibernation. My re-awakening has me feeling like springtime. Like growth and movement are soon to come. Well, I did always have to be different.
Still, there are unanswered questions and things that deserve more consideration. For now, let's take it one day at a time.
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