It’s all coming together. Outside is about the fullest moon I’ve seen after one of the warmest days we’ve had in a while. That’s all well and good on the moon front, but the earth has tilted just enough that it’s shining directly in my kitchen window again, which suits me waking at my ungodly morning bewitching hour. This after a day when the crocuses and daffodils decided it was the right day to shoot up and bloom and people were driving too fast because of the unusually warm spring weather. Did you notice? I got home from a nice day out with PEOPLE and could only walk inside and throw open all the windows to let the poor house air out while the cat ran back and forth on the hardwood floors in a spontaneous and buoyant fit of confusion.
Do you know that fit of confusion?
Adjectives, adverbs yes I can’t help it. Yesterday was that kind of day. Hard for words to describe the confusion when winter begins to yield to spring. Yes I’m premature as February’s not over, and as they say “we still could get significant snow in March”. Yeh so what? They say lots of things. But something tells me that old groundhog was right.
So we enjoyed ourselves- the drivers, the cat and me. The vernal moonlight is shining bright through the window, lighting up the living room. There’s no turning back now. We’ve sprung forward just enough. We only have ahead.
And what of that? I’m not really sure. I’m only here right now, with my espresso and that moon. And with you. And it’s nice! I’d love to say I have a “full slate” ahead and my “table is set”, an expression I used back in the day when I was paid way too generously for being so smart. I am pretty busy, but compared to most maybe not, although I know better that comparisons are fruitless and more so silly. How I live isn’t at all “full” in the traditional sense, but a flurry of activity in its own right.
Who’s to say that one person’s flurry of activity is any better or more right than anyone else’s?
Mine’s tailor made.
So we’re springing ahead, slowly but surely, and the hands of time still haven’t stopped. And here I sit. And it’s about me, right? See I’m using the “I” word and doing the iThing as much as possible today- and me, my, mine and myself too. I’m just in the mood. I’ll refrain from my usual we, ours and us. Do you find that incredibly self-absorbed?
But I notice it in people, their frequent use of the “I”, both in their conversation and written word. Some use it more than others of course. Although not scientific, my gut tells me nowadays more people overuse it than not. A keen observer once said my own particular world of essay writing is like my own reality show or “couch therapy”, and I love that. Here is where I indulge in whatever I want and don’t apologize as it’s my space. My theses are rhetorical and deliberately thin and my meanderings for fun and for flourish – I’m at play. Hey, is the camera on? Here I can do the iThing or weThing or whatever thing I want. Is there more to it? That’s your call. But if you’re reading this you’re privy (and possibly sadistic), as in real life though the jovial sort, I’m not one to hijack the airspace or command an audience or talk about me, my, mine, myself and I. How incredibly gauche. Everyday I listen closely to many and read many and don’t get me wrong, I hear much good shit- for me listening is a forte. But what’s so pervasive and what I can’t seem to shake is the steady stream of I’s. The story it tells is different from what I’m hearing.
An entirely different story which becomes about the speaker, not the content.
I talked to a cool old man yesterday. I like him. He’s an old man in the sense that he’s twenty and maybe a few more years older than me. I’ll admit I’m a person who hardly gets greater pleasure lately than spending time with a cool old man- a genuine and interesting role model type of person. Paging Dr. Freud! Cool old women too, with all due respect, but old men are rarer. Well, people in general never cease to fascinate. Now that I think about it, I’ve been disappointed in my life by men who in my youthful wishful thinking I WANTED to be role models. Is there anything wrong with my being out with that? Anyway, when I talked to this guy he naturally did the whole iThing as people do, and he does talk a lot, and in quite an animated fashion. But I noticed when I got my words in edgewise that I too was overindulging and strutting out the iThing, talking about what I felt, how the subject at hand affected ME, more so than usual. I, I, I.
So it must have been important. Or was it? Am I making a point here? It’s murky but I do have one! Maybe the point is remembering that often in life nobody asked. It’s different with people you consider your “people” and personal, as opposed to say any Tom, Dick or Mary off the street. Like in my good time spent with the cool old man. But there’s a forum for everything, right? It’s not always best to prop ourselves in the center of things and more often the right time to listen. So much of the iThing makes us look iDiotic, as in the id? Or is that the super-ego? Well not wholly the id or super-ego in the Freudian sense but you get my drift. I just can’t help that no matter how hard I try in this life, I can so easily remove myself from the equation.
It’s not about me.
I count the I’s. Me, me, me. How many opening paragraphs are flooded with I’s and their ilk? How many people consistently point back to their omnipresent me? You get the picture, so enough! Talk about ruminating, geez. But I have a sensitivity to the peacocking and back slapping, ostentatious and self-congratulatory, poppycocking, yakedy-yakking and looking-at-me salesmanship, and with no end in sight either, that seems to go along with who we are as a culture. It’s so whorish. And yes one of my familiar subjects, but it saddens me. Me, me, me. So much attention seeking and focusing on ourselves, yet still so much work to be done.
I myself am making me tired.
Couch therapy! So the vernal moon’s correctly lined up, the cool old man is cool, and the season’s trending toward warmth. “I” happen to be poised for a nice smooth takeoff, working on challenging and exciting writing projects, while really never having to write anything new again if I don’t want to. Luxury. And that means I’m only writing for the sheer pleasure of it (aren’t you lucky to be here?). The sunshine yesterday got everyone and their mother offering me new work and THAT always means the stars are aligning just right. Security for me is always fleeting. I’m more determined than ever to be more MYSELF than ever and eat those consequences more willingly than ever too.
And it’s Purim!
But I have no intention of indulging you on that this morning, though believe me I could just for sport. The cat’s been outside for a while and he’s knocking on the door to come in. That’s good cause iThing forgot he was out there. Isn’t that a summer season state of mind? iThing like it! It’s six-ten am and already dawn. How summery! That makes iThing happy, not that you asked. Oh yeh, and you. What about you? Why are you still there listening to me talk about me?