Monthly Archives: August 2013
Between my finger and my thumb
The squat pen rests; snug as a gun.
Real writing, writing that involves careful feats of attentiveness, helps us discover not simply one opinion or another about the way things are, but rather it helps us realize the way things ought to be.
I began to think that being immersed in another language feels something like being in the ocean. Once you get through the initial fear and shock, it’s an addictive feeling.
That relentless perfectionism is a big reason why, 35 years after their commercial peak and 10 years since their last studio album, Steely Dan is still such an incredible live act.
On June 3, 2013, Jared Scripture moved in with us. Two things you might ask: 1) Is his last name really Scripture? 2) Who is “us”?
For better or worse, movies are selling us hilarity for the price of a ticket and popcorn, and we’re buying it.
Someday, we’ve got this promise of a glory land, a place where our forever will be golden. But in this life, Eden sank to grief. Leaf subsides to leaf.
What is she thinking? You hope she approves of you. You touch her nose, her thin eyebrows, her fuzzy black hair. You trace her perfect ears.
Perhaps what I question most is the emphasis that both “medical science” and faith healing place on the disappearance of symptoms in individuals rather than communities.
So teachers, don’t expect that your kids will tell you in fifteen years how you teaching them to carry the one deeply affected their lives.
It wasn’t so much that I was worried about my own ability to navigate the hazards of the trail, but that I did not trust anyone else—and generally for good reason.
How can a person as unorganized and untidy as I am simultaneously be so anal retentive about how to arrange books?
I couldn’t fully articulate this at the time, but I saw a new puppy as a means of gaining control of my life. So much was changing, and I felt like I was being left behind.
Bridges I have aplenty. What I crave is intersections. Intersections—those moments of synchrony, of serendipity, of crazy coincidence.
But more often than not, I’m surprised at the curiosity and ability of my students. Yesterday marked one of those moments.
The truth of the matter is that homes are much less beautiful without bookshelves packed full of books. They decorate the nooks and crannies of homes with artful spines and interesting thoughts.
This year is a different story. Now I’m the teacher. While I got through my first year of teaching, every time I get asked the question, “How did your first year go?” I answer, “Really hard.”
Once you have reached the Hospital, you may proceed to Have your Child. If you have maintained Sufficient Control, your Labor and Delivery will be short and full of Screaming.
We’ve literally never heard of the 1964 movie Scotch Tape because we were not, in fact, alive in 1964. So no, we don’t know who starred in it.
Liminal games are where you build momentum, where habits form, where mindsets are made.
When the new soles arrived I unboxed, unlaced, and tried them on. I took a few steps and looked in the mirror. Something was off.
When you see a rental moving truck on the road, pass it like your life depends on it. Because your life probably depends on it.
So I let baby calves with rough tongues suck on my fingers. I stopped caring about whether or not I was getting dust on my white shorts or cow manure on my shoes.
I try to understand things. People, ideas, life. I enjoy listening and learning and knowing, and especially knowing about people.
The years after college are, from what I’ve seen, uprooted ones. College is a liminal space, to be sure, but after graduation, defining one’s place can be even harder.
This reunion I had only one such conversation with my grandma, but it impressed me even more deeply. She shared with me the story of her faith, which is also the story of her life,
Our memories mark everything we touch because we filter our new experiences through our old. However, unlike a fingerprint, our memories are more easily changed.
Sigur Rós instantiates Walter Pater’s conviction that “All art constantly aspires towards the condition of music.” Short and sweet, but that’s what I think it all boils down to.
Home is a sense of belonging and inclusion, but it’s also a sense of boundaries. There must be things that are not-home.