[Claustrophobia.]

I have been yearning for a reason to write here lately, but have been unable to come up with anything "worthy" of posting. Which completely negates the entire point of this creative effort.

I was actually concocting bulleted lists of potential topics:

- Family visits

- Categorizing the self

- Mourning's impact

- Believing you, trusting you care

All of which eventually led me to my final bullet point:

- The oddity of forcing it

I haven't been able to reflect on much lately.

I'm in a bit of an expressive rut.

My canvases are blank.

My music mixes are stagnant.

My "Scribble A Day" project has been stuck on Day 32 for about as many days.

And all together, my numerous journals have gained maybe 3 pages in as many weeks.

What's the deal?

[Empty Pages.]

It feels like it's been ages since I last took time for a hard, thought-provoking look at life. The excuse is the same as it always is with us modern-agers: there's no time.

This full-time schedule has got me fatigued...

even though I've yet to teach a full week.

(Pathetic.)

Still, it amazes me the way we go about rationalizing this shift of focus:

From our big-picture lifestyle to our narrowly-focused careers.

From existence to To-Do's.

From simply being to quickly (exhaustively) doing.

Isn't there a way to find a balance?

Really, I think I'd be less on the verge of collapse if I were more in tune with myself. It's just so easy to lose that insight and perspective when the other side is adding pressure.

In all honesty (and maybe it's just because today has been hard) I ease my mind by reminding myself (often) that the job is only temporary. One more month and I'll be free.

"Free" meaning "unemployed", which offers its own complexities--

ones that are typically much more burdening than waking up early.

The mere fact that I crave the comforts of owning my time like that suggests one of two things: 1) There's something wrong with the way the working world works... or 2) There's something wrong with me. More specifically, something wrong with the way in which I am unwilling to grow up.

But it must be a typical feeling for folks my age-- gap years wouldn't be such a hit otherwise.

Is it just some sort of naivete kicking in? Some idealistic notion keeping us 20-somethings on the move and out of the 9-5 stretch? Is settling into one's career a way of giving up on that notion and surrendering to the pressures of society?

Good god, I hope not.

...

But I'm not convinced.

[Current Affairs.]

A rant on the tragedies of today.

(Current affairs-- of shame, blame, wretchedness, and ... outreach.)

Somehow, I have managed to get in the routine of eating breakfast amid sobs: spoon in one hand, roll of toilet paper (my far-from-classy version of Kleenex) in the other. I do this because I've been following coverage of the crisis in Haiti surprisingly closely and seem to have become incredibly attached to the heartache represented.

In a time of such crushing trauma, how is it that any person could find it within themselves to turn against the aching souls needing help more desperately than anyone should ever have to know? How is it that one could lay blame on the victim? Tell them they actually earned this chaos, this catastrophe?

It infuriates me.

What an insanely damning notion. I do not see this conveyed message as a simple comment-- ignorant, arrogant, dehumanizing as it may be. Instead, it rattles through my imaginateion as a moment, a deed, an action-- as demolishing as the quake itself.

[I see a person, buried.

Under rubble.

Reaching out.

To you.

Your response?

You begin to turn around, slowly... thoughtfully...self-righteous and scheming.

You turn back.

Not to help.

But to stomp upon them.

Spit.

In a blind fury.]

HOW?? How is that even an option?! WHERE is your soul? Your heart? WHERE?!!!?!?!!

What a disgrace.

Traumatizing for them, for us as a nation, even for me.

The most terrifying part?

This is not the first time I've heard such a notion.

No, I've heard something similar uttered by those I've thought of highly, embraced fully.

The most trying example having been experienced in a class a few years ago.

A required class.

For future educators.

(...It's enough to make me cross myself on behalf of future generations.

May they grow to be wiser than our own.)

I remember a particular occasion occuring a few semesters back, on campus. We were to have a discussion in groups about overpopulation in the world, battling wits and one-upping arguments about the inevitability and potential solutions.

It was then that one of my challengers shared their unbridled honest opinion: that overpopulation was a problem often solved by God via natural disasters and disease.

"That's what AIDS and tsunamis are for."

My eyes bulged.

Jaw dropped.

Mind raced through endless reasons why that was the most outrageous, narcissistic, and blatantly racist thing I'd ever heard.

And then I heard those on my side completely drop their assigned stance to agree-- wholeheartedly. People I considered incredibly intelligent, admired for their insightfulness, and respected fully. Here they were, able to dismiss others so easily. Without a care, without another thought.

God gets rid of the waste.

It was traumatizing. Earth-shattering. A moment I will never forget, never forgive.

At least not today.

Not when their sentiments are being repeated on such an enormous scale. Perhaps those doing the talking now are exactly the same folks who gave my friends their misguided ideas in the first place, come to think of it.

The power these people have... it's terrifying.

The influence they hold... it could be such a good grace in this brutal world.

Instead, it's being used to inflict wounds deeper than any concrete slab could.

I am so sorry, my aching friends. I am so, so sorry for the things they have said.

[Bottled up.]

For as much as I complain about winter...

(the chapped lips,

windburned cheeks,

frozen hair,

cracking skin,

uncomfortable goosebumps,

unsettling shivers,

crawling-out-of-the-covers-induced shock...)

[deep breath]

...every once in a while, a single moment has the power to silence me.

I am currently glowing with one such a discovery:

Sitting in the local coffeeshop, sunlight pouring in through the glass door, I am shrouded in gold, warmed by the long distance rays and the comfort of the

indoors.

Is there any other time when the sun's boldness is as engulfing?

Another instant during the year when sunshine is as cherished

as it is now?

The reflective snowbanks and their glistening sheets of ice.

The knowledge of hours growing with darkness.

The addition of color in an otherwise gray world...

It is in moments like this that winter becomes quiet.

And that quiet becomes soaked in luxurious beauty.

Steeped, seeping...

Winter.

[Bright, reflective snowbanks.]

I have been issued a snow day. I felt as giddy as I used to when I found out about it this morning.

Being all cooped up today has given me plenty of time to process my school experience thus far and all I've been able to focus on is the surprising brilliance of these kids. Brilliant, but dealing with so much.

It's beautiful to watch them in their early stages... learning the basics, trying to express themselves, struggling to balance their newfound friends, families, school and play. Seems ridiculous. Childhood ought to be carefree, after all, shouldn't it? Yet that's not what I've seen these kids experiencing.

The things they face and grasp so young...Bruised bodies, protective of their friends. Stories of betrayal and abandoning. Bullied by those who ought to love them most.

These kids are wise. Bold, and more brave than I’ve ever been, ever will be. Naiivete is not accessible to them the way it always has been for me. So beautiful. So honest. So innocent. So scared.

Yet they always seem to be rising above it all. My proof? The most awe-inspiring question I've ever heard came from one of these kids:

“What are shadows made of?”

Tell me, when was the last time you wondered such an astounding thing?