Tuesday, April 18, 2006

plus ça change, c'est la même chose? or where I pretend to know math

... continuing the theme of self-absorption...mmmm spongey!

I've been thinking a lot about change lately. And why my life has been pretty much same old same old (plus la même), while my pretty li'l heart beats itself to a pulp (but not grovestand!) drowsily dreaming about change. New places, new faces, green eggs and ham on a bus, on a train on a plane, that sort of thing.

Life has been relatively stable. If it were a graph, it would be pretty much a line. The kind of line you learn about in whatever grade when you first start to plot points and connect the dots, without having learned about variations or anything weird yet. Straight-forwardly horizontal. Well, not much forward about it.

Because after college, there was this almost-surprise!! job!!! thing. And then I moved, I guess, though not very far. And the points plodded along and here I've been thinking for awhilewhilewhile along this x-axis (where x=t=time!), it's T for something else.

I guess I've never really been one for drastic changes. Like any homebody, I'm fond of familiarity. And baking cookies. And seeing dearest friends, which of course are my only friends. But I've never really felt so much before that I was closing myself off to some possibilities than I do now (perhaps I wasn't). I'm neither the kind of person that has a plan nor the kind that jumps around with wild spontaneity. I don't think I've experienced, nor can I sit around waiting for, that life-changing illumination. I can never answer those stupid questions, what book, experience, event CHANGED you and why? Please refer to my graph, I write down neatly. Or have I? And just do not approach memories in that manner? In any case, as of late, and less late, I feel in a bind. I'm not crossing the street with brio or staying on the sidewalk with caution. I'm sort of waveringly, most dangerously, in that do-i-cross? mode where the hesitation lands you in front of an oncoming car and I wave a goodbye as my plodding life flashes horizontally before my eyes to the dear friends who are, frankly, scattered about and scattered themselves.

Am I just afraid of oncoming cars? (Well, if so, I am in the wrong city.)
But why, then, is this desire for change a mirage? I think I want it, and I sort of get there, and it disappears. And I'm just left thirsty.
Is it fear? Is part of me afraid of change and not willing to admit it? Does part of my brain not want to speak to the rest of me? Is my amygdala a little hermit, sitting there eating its cookies and speaking to no one? Something doesn't make sense. Something is not quite adding up.
I know a lot of it is inertia and that one must, sigh, Make things happen. Life is, despite my sometimes doom n' gloom attitudes, okay. Not excellent, but certainly not bad. But does this mean that I need such a heavy weight to pull me out of my currently plodding, line-plotting trajectory? Though all around me are these little gadfly weights, my peers, who are starting different things, plotting changes, on the cusp, about to take steps, taking steps.
If I am the tortoise, going slow and steady, what am I doing if there is no finish line. Am I going along this line, with little to no slope, gaining or even losing anything at all? Or this a sort of life that is flat-lining?
This is also exactly the type of thinking out-loud that I often find tiresome in other people. I'm tiresome too! Bring on the cookies, amygy, ol' pal.

1 comment:

Robyn said...

I'm also moving in a straight line.
Mrrh. :|