Saturday, January 16, 2010

Pain and no peace

I haven't been able to achieve plain old peace in a very, very long time so the question, naturally, is can I actually achieve this state? Reading over the entries of the last year or so, I'm not so sure that melancholia isn't more of a better fit than say contentment.

I've mentioned ad nauseam that I want to be writing but it does seem that an awful lot of things are happening in my life that do not include writing. When, writing, like brushing one's teeth each night and regular sex (none of which occurs consistently for me due to my own lack of constancy) isn't habitual, do I really want to write at all (or have sex or have gleaming pearly whites??)

Yes and no.

One of the little pronouncements I've been making lately is to state the obvious when someone suggests a new method for achieving better habits ("Well, what I've been doing hasn't been working so I'm willing to try something different"). This mindset-- which acknowledges that I've failed in the past because I simply wasn't up to making changes-- has helped me lose weight and become a tiny bit less disorganized. It has given me the strength to overcome my natural inertia.

As I write this my wife calls to me from the bedroom. She's watching TV and missing me. Heck I miss her. This often happens when we're not in the same room. Most of the time, I go hang with her and try to write with Grey's Anatomy or football competing for mindspace. Typically, I stop writing soon after relocating. But this time, setting aside my culpability with the practiced selfishness of a veteran hack, I say "I'm writing." And even when her small voice says "oh ok. do what you need to do" and I feel that pang of guilt, I remain committed to the keyboard, to this passage, to wanting to change my life in the face of what–has–been–before.

It's all so GD complicated.

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