Spring Snowflake

Spring Snowflake (leucojum vernum)

I was in that state between falling asleep and sleep, when it registered that I was not in pain.  Sometimes, I get an achy leg that I ignore, but I did not at all notice that I was feeling pain-free.  It made me think (and abandon sleep for minutes longer) as I realized what a gift this was.  I’m recovering from a flu that doesn’t want to shake, though the worst is over.  I have skipped dozens of yoga classes, and walks.  But that moment, I was pain-free.

My mother just went through dual knee replacement.  Brave woman she is, she endured a great deal of pain, even on meds.  Now she is recovered, and walking better than she had in years.

I am seeing where I am going with this as I type.  I’m not there yet.

Pain is so individual.

I am in a period of waiting to decide what to do about my novel-in-progress.  It has been through four complete, radical revisions, with different settings.  I feel as if I have written four novels.  I am making notes now on this fifth revision, introducing two plot changes.  I find fault with all the published fiction I read now, unless the author is dead or the reading is frivolous.  I did read Ian McEwan’s Solar which made me laugh out loud on the plane, but which I would like better I’m certain had I read it months from now.  Perhaps this is the moment to go back and delete everything I noted about pain.

I’m reading Dorothy Sayer stories now, and will soon be rereading A Room of One’s Own as well as poetry for classes I am teaching.

I just spent some time watching videos of the Red Hot Chili Peppers, until they got too noisy.

I never wanted to be a rock star growing up; I wanted to be a lawyer.  I think I really wanted to be a painter, but that got buried somewhere.

Sudhir Kaker says rage emerges from suppressed feelings of powerlessness.  Perhaps it comes from suppressed pain.  If it can be attributed to an outside force, a spirit, the enraged can rage on without guilt, accepting possession.

I’m making notes for my novel.

I guess I nearly always make notes for my life.


spring snowflake

spring snowflake, deconstruction



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