Sunday, July 06, 2008

Floating

I've been reading other people's blogs a fair bit lately and realized with a sigh that this blog has never had a niche, a shape -- it hops around from flippant asides to Deep Thoughts to sheer neglect for months and months. Much like every journal I've ever had.

One blog I read has evolved in a fascinating way from a pure knitting blog to little postcards of her life in portland with her baby and husband and burgeoning garden, although, as a writer, she's very clear that this is neither her serious writing nor her real life. Yet, it's an engaging keyhole. In some ways I think I wanted this blog to be that -- but like everything else that I do in my life, it's about surges and mercurial shifts. But that's me, and so that's what comes out of my fingers.

I think I've never been very good at focusing on just one thing -- like right this minute, what I want to write about includes the blister on my leg that I got on my ex's mentee's Honda Rebel exhaust on friday (which reminds me of a scar on F's arm, and thinking about how our lovers and friends come to us marked, and then my cousin Liz, who burned herself on a moped exhaust in Asia), the turbulence of thoughts about possibly moving and what that means, my observations about how other people make decisions like condo buying, fear, anxiety, history, independence, coffee (more coffee), why I take on more work than I can do, how on earth am I going to really shape my post-doc life, why am I feeling so resentful of my well-meaning committee, Aine and her amazing warmth, how it is I become friends, how much I am loving becoming friends with L, what is it I look like from the outside, and of course, the core core stuff I'm trying to grapple with.

Instead, I focus on the feeling when I lift my road bike up. Pure joy. The lightness of power inherent in it -- knowing I can fuse with it and ride 30, 50, 100 miles. I feel like I rise up when I heft it, and I'm instantly transported into someone who moves, someone strong. Sky ocean strong blue, light and perfect.

I believe that this bike gives me more joy than any material thing I've ever had in my life. Not my hot boots,,

not my first ipod, the perfect bra, not my favourite piece of art ,

not even my first running shoes (which come a close second).

A lick of honey on my soul.

1 comment:

Cari said...

I found you via a link in my blog stats, and am glad I did. This is a great post. Looking forward to more, and to digging into the archives a bit.