This week has been a long stretch of oh well, of good intentions that don't amount to anything. Something in my brain put on the brakes, some kind of self-preservation mechanism. The important thing, though, is not to fight it. Normally, under these circumstances, I would take a break and go to San Francisco. But that's a bit too easy. It's too easy to run back to the familiar-- I need to learn to find balance in the everyday, in my surroundings. Oh wow. That was so new-age and cheesy that it is clear I need to get it together.
I don't know how to explain that, even though I feel tired, dead tired, and even though I spend most of my time with my nose buried in my books, and even though I mention wanting to strangle my classmates every other day, I know at certain moments, in certain precise seconds of awareness, that this makes me happy. Little, stupid things contribute to this feeling, so that it makes no sense to catalog them.
Maybe that's what the best things are like, though. I remember, a long time ago now, my friend Jersey told me that he was completely opposed to writing special vows for his wedding, and that, if he had it his way, he would do away with the whole idea of saying vows out loud at a wedding. "I know how I feel, she knows how I feel. What the hell should we care if anyone else knows how we feel about each other?" he would reason with his thick, swashbuckling-to-me accent. It's kind of true. Over the years, he did not spend a lot of time talking about how crazy he was about his wife, but he did not have to, because it was evident in his very essence, and in his every action.
People think that not being able to articulate a feeling is a cop-out. That maybe you can't talk about it because you don't feel sure how you feel about it. But sometimes you know exactly how you feel about something and that is exactly why you can't put it into words. You can put up a hundred, a thousand, a million words around it, adjectives and descriptors and metaphors galore, but you won't really get much closer to putting your finger on it, to really pinpointing it.
For now, it has to be enough to say, things are good. I don't know where I'm headed, but I know it will all be okay.