the most i've packed into a day yet

the day was a swirl, complete with class, last minute errands and prep for life stories interview, job/advising/film/thesis meeting (all condensed into a one-hour slot of overwhelming intensity--these meetings always leave me drained because they're so challenging/encouraging in many ways), a reunion/interview with my high school english teacher (another meeting that left me drained and overwhelmed--i think i feel that way after talking with people who believe that i can be more than i think--which is simultaneously uplifting and terrifying), quick dinner before work at belden, followed by an intense all-nighter of film critiquing, comm theory critiquing, critical film viewing, life-narrative writing, and memoir reading.

Days when I'm tired of hearing the same thing

On the Monday, when i'm acutely aware of both the amount of tasks and the effort that they'll take to accomplish, I spent the first part of the day in an angry flurry, lashing out at anyone around. My favorite class did little to relieve the tension, but instead escalated my frustration through my fear and lack of preparation for the test on Wednesday. Auditions for 10-Minute-Play festival were successful, not what I expected, though lifted my mood by virtue of being full of life-giving, passionate students generally interested and invested in theatre. Switched roles of student/coach to listen to Ann's program for Joy's retirement, and thought for a second about the overarching path I'm walking, as opposed to the demands of the day. Was struck by the "magic" of the moment in such a familiar/mundane setting and wondered why I had never noticed it before. Realized that when I interact with people everyday, instead of talking, I simply relay my latest list of burdens and stress. I can't imagine what they're thinking, because frankly, I'm sick of hearing about it myself.

record record

a friend and professor just ended a blog that he wrote on everyday for a year.

i didn't realize it was only supposed to be for a year when i started reading.

the point is, i read faithfully, everyday, about what was happening in his life. his writings brought me relief and challenge. they challenged me because when he squeezed his experiences down, he simplified it to the basic sensations that moved him forward. he often reflected on "big" ideas that he gained through the simplest of activities. I was always impressed by the way he was able to incorporate something more into the mundane--something i've felt incapable of. they brought me relief much the same way a good story or film can--by offering a window into the life of someone else. watching his life unfold before me through his eyes gave confirmation of the world as bigger than the individual.

some days he reflected on activities that I had been involved in. i got to read his interpretation, his involvement, how it impacted (or didn't impact) his life. in a way, i experienced that year along with him. we were co-creators of a social space wherein we both had knowledge of the past and equal anticipation of the future.

the abrupt end leaves me afraid that the connection is somehow lost. that i will never regain the assurance of humanity that he left me with.

so i'm creating my own.

this is my attempt to re-create what he did. to challenge myself to look at my day(s) as more than a series of separate events. to challenge myself to keep up with something everyday. to document my life. to tell my stories in order to make sense of my social world. to help someone else.

i'm allowing myself to write as little or as much as I want. i'm also allowing myself the choice to skip days altogether without feeling the pressure of having to play "catch up." my life is busy, and if i get behind, i don't want this being another "failure."

so if you're reading, welcome. i hope this gives you hope.