24 April 2009

Living in the past, present and future

I'm having a hard time with this whole blog thing. Part of the problem is that I decided to start posting my work quite a while after I started doing all of this so I'm still scrambling to catch this journal up with where I "really" am, while trying to slow down the doing part so I have a fighting chance of actually doing that. On top of that, living and writing about the past and present at the same time is messing with me. Guess I'm always living in the past, present, and future -- for me, especially the future --- but this consistent writing about it shoves my nose into how whacked that makes my life.

Even outside this project, I google old friends and boyfriends just to see what's happened to them (Hi! to any of you doing the same to me now, by the way. Bet I was the last person you thought would end up doing this, eh?)and I can spend hours reviewing key moments of my life that I've loved and even longer picking apart those mortifying "high" points that I still can't shake, the times when I said or did things I still can't believe, those moments when I sacrificed myself or someone else. I find myself luxuriating in the second-by-second unfolding of those scenes, feeling every feeling, over and over again. Why? Am I hoping, if I go over it yet again, that it'll turn out different? That I'll understand why I did what I did so I won't get to that place again? In a few cases I have developed some compassion for the situation, for whomever I deem the perpetrator, me or another, but, still...

My real obsession is the future: I get lost in it. I want to know what's going to happen. In detail. Barring that, I want a concrete list of possibilities all laid out. Why? Because I want to control or at least influence the likely outcome. I get paralyzed in fabrication, examination, consideration, rumination. I have turned millions of present moments over to this imagined future. Why? I dunno. It actually seems easier than letting all of it go, easier than hearing the bird outside my window, feeling that my fingers are a bit cold as I type this, that I made a mistake in the underwear I chose today - it kind of hurts - and that, until this moment, I didn't notice how thirsty I am and that the glass of water I poured before I sat down has gone untouched until now.

1 comment:

  1. I find that passively anticipating the future is a losing proposition. That said, I completely understand your angst and find that actively trying to manipulate the future is much more satisfying, yet highly unpredictable.

    Personally, I fear contacting people from the past with whom I've lost the connection - except for you of course. There was usually a reason the connection died and I fear trying to resusitate it would result in me being stalked by a screwed up person.

    I miss you Ms. Klaus and am awaiting the galleys of your book on religion - a fascinating topic considering you came from a family that shunned religion. I can't wait for it to hit the stands!


I'm interested in any and all comments although it may take me a while to post them.