Day Three. I began this listing two days ago after reading an article by Leo Babuta that a writer friend, Christina Frei, posted on Facebook. Here is a little piece of it: (It’s really worth clicking over and reading the whole thing)
“How do you push through when you don’t feel motivated? You start moving. Take just one step, any step, a tiny step. Movement begets movement. Once you start moving, even a little, you feel better, you see that you’re capable, you want to move more.”
To me this meant that if I want to write, I have to just start. Anyplace, just start. Lists are something I can always write, so I decided to start here, with some lists. And lo and behold, I’m enjoying writing again. So, here is day three.
1. Twenty-seven eighth graders three days after Halloween are not the most pleasant people to be around. They are having fun but I’m not. It’s kind of funny how I expect them to behave as though they were older than thirteen, just because they aren’t eleven or twelve any more. Thirteen was my most awkward, confused time of life. Actually eleven was, but thirteen was close to the same. I still played the trombone in the marching band, always secretly wishing I played a girly instrument like the flute. I put yellow Kleenex in my bra and then thoughtlessly wore a white blouse that showed the Kleenex, which was duly commented on by a girl who wore a larger bra but didn’t need to put Kleenex in it. (Who even remembers when toilet paper and Kleenex were colored?) Mortification. When I was in eighth grade, I talked so much in class I know I drove my teachers crazy. So maybe this is some karmic payback. That must be it.
2. I’m waiting for the fireplace-insert repair guy to show up to light the pilot on my fireplace thing. It suddenly got kind of cold this week – not like those of you who live back east where it’s frigid cold, but less than comfortable. I really try to do as many homeowner things as I can, but for some reason I just can’t get this thing started and it’s driving me crazy. I don’t like to mess with gas either, so once again I’ll pay someone else to get things going for me. UPDATE: Done and done. Fresh and clean and warm.
Speaking of warm, have you ever seen these paper lanterns? I think they came from Korea. You light the little light inside, and they float up into the atmosphere. Probably becoming litter somewhere, but when a whole lot of them take off at once they are breathtaking. We didn’t have very good luck sending more that a few off, but wow, so beautiful/
3. Yesterday it was pointed out to me that I missed number three on my list. I don’t know how I managed that. There was actually another thing I was going to write about yesterday but didn’t, so it must have been number three. That thing is the topic of dyeing hair. My hair, to be specific. I don’t do it anymore. For years I had a skillful colorist who added lowlights and highlights to my hair. I think it looked very natural, as the grey wasn’t completely covered up. It just blended in. But whenever it would get close to time to go in for a touchup, I would see roots that were completely white. And I felt shame. That’s right, shame. It was all tied up in aging and looking older and not wanting to admit that I was getting older. If I kept coloring my hair no one would guess my age. Something like that. Because all my life I’ve seen women lose their power when they got older. The slope from being a ‘woman’ to being an ‘old lady’ seemed steep indeed. It was kind of like I feared being whacked by it from behind. I thought and thought about this, and then I came across Cindy Joseph and her Pro-Age Revolution, and I had to rethink all that. I decided that it was time to own it. My age, my hair color, all of it. I told my hairdresser of my decision and she was completely supportive. That was nearly three years ago, and I don’t regret it for a second. It was interesting to see what color it would be if I just let it grow. It’s completely silver in front and a little darker in the back. People sometimes say, “I wish mine would look like yours. I’d grow it in a second.” I say, go for it! It’ll probably look better than mine. It’ll be perfect for your skin tone.
This is kind of a long #3, so I guess it’s two days worth! Let’s see if I can find a picture of this silveryness. I can’t bring myself to put this photo as big as all the others. It’s enough that I’m even putting it in here.
4. What about making things? I like to do that, so much. It’s like I go along, and go along and all of a sudden I just have to make something. It doesn’t matter what, actually. Could be a collage, a mosaic, a little pen and colored pencil drawing or a photo. I used to make quilts, but it’s been a while since I did that. The funny thing is, I don’t think any of my students ever have that urge and I wonder why. It used to be that I had incredibly talented artists among my students. They loved to do projects that would allow them to make something. But that is past, and I’m afraid that was weeded or trained out of them by the whole No Child Left Behind fiasco. The kids of my classroom would rather do a worksheet than draw or cut and paste. It makes me sad, because I know that within some of them is an artist that wants out, only they don’t know how to recognize it. Surely that will lead to feelings of frustration as they go on. I hope some art teacher in their future is able to introduce them to this part of themselves.
5. Okay, here’s the last one for today. Cooking dinner. I’m just not into it lately. I’ll eat the same soup I made on Saturday for as long as it’ll last if it means I don’t have to cook. I don’t know where this cooking aversion came from.As much as I love eating vegetables, I don’t love cooking them. Just in case there was any question about that.
Let’s see what I can come up with in the way of a farewell photo today.