A moment of Peace

    The first post of 2012 has come later than I would have liked - a combination of having a lot of different things I’ve been wanting to post about and an inability to work on that writing has made it so that, until tonight, I’ve had to put it to the side. There’s just been so much to do lately: between school, finding work, taking care of my temporarily disabled father, unfortunate events and even just regular day-to-day chores, there hasn’t been much time for me to work on personal projects, including (much to my chagrin) this blog.
   
    Even more distressing to me, the inability to schedule down-time means that Warden and I haven’t been able to indulge in much romance, a fact that rang particularly true just a few nights ago on the date marking our second year together.

    “This isn’t how I wanted to spend our anniversary,” he told me towards the end of a long day, sitting in the car at parking lot to our school. His tone communicated annoyance with himself and life in general. We weren’t able to celebrate that night: the beginning of the day before had been a lot of running around and driving back and forth to take care of errands that couldn’t wait, ending with both of us too tired to stay up together for very long. The morning-of had started early to attend the funeral of one of the most influential teachers (and people in general) of my life, and ended with hanging out with friends - time that seems precious given the looming dissolution of our close-knit group as everyone makes plans for the future, for work, for moving and for transferring schools. Even so, we would have gone out to dinner on our own - but Warden was feeling nauseous, which only lent to his frustration. Both of us were in much better moods by the time we went to bed that night, but the whole day was a bitter-sweet reminder of the importance of just having time for the things you want to do.

Depth in Shallow Water

    As I mentioned in my last post, I recently went canoeing for the first time. One of my friends - whom we’ll call Ardelis - invited me to join her on a group camping trip. Her ex-boyfriend was originally supposed to accompany her, but (due to his recent status as ‘ex’) she had no one to go with her. Being that I haven’t been camping for a few years, and I’d never been canoeing, I decided this would be fun change of pace. If nothing else, more time to bond with Ardelis, one of Warden’s friends from early childhood on who has become a fairly close friend of my own in the short time I’ve known her.
   
    I had little to no idea of what to expect - I didn’t even know if we were going to be way out in the wilderness, or at a camp site with electricity and water (we were) - so I packed only what I felt were necessities, and whatever I’d need to get by. Supplies-wise, I did more than fine (I had leaned towards the idea of being nowhere near bathrooms or running water and so on) but when it came to our fellow campers, I wasn’t sure how to feel.
   
    While Ardie had warned me about her brothers, I had taken most of the descriptions I’d heard as hyperbole. I quickly learned my mistake. I commented at one point, laughing, that I felt like I was in ‘hostile territory.’ When she asked what I meant, I replied, “Well, remember: I’m kind of a witch, so…” She nodded, understanding quickly: the portable sound system which blared near constantly the duration of the trip was at the moment playing a song about wanting a ‘country-music Jesus’ to come and “save us all.”

I was, after all, camping with a large group of service men and their women - men who, at a glance, could pretty quickly be identified with one word: rednecks.

Dedication - a Year of Blogging

    Following my Dream about Doors, I’ve been re-examining my goals and priorities. My year-and-a-day has passed, August 1st 2010 being the day I got my blog running in the first place and Lammas - the holiday I discussed in that post - is today. While it’s not required of me (not to mention I’m not exactly in any sort of initiatory order) I really wanted to perform some sort of dedication to mark the time that‘s gone by and to set a definitive goal for the future.

    But what would I dedicate myself to? Like I said before, a ritual without a purpose is like a door that doesn’t lead anywhere. It can be a beautiful door, and a real experience to pass through it, but if it doesn’t actually take you anywhere then the exercise is pointless… right?

    All of the study, the reading, all the research, the talking to people - it’s been a real trip, and I don’t plan on stopping any time soon. It’s changed how I think, opened up my mind, and shown me a lot of good things. Admittedly, it‘s led to some really depressing realizations about just how bad the world can be - but it‘s also shown me that it‘s alright to hope as well.
    Still, what does this all mean? What is my goal? Do I have any plans for what to do with all the things I’m learning? What has anything I’ve learned actually done for me?