the silence is deafening
Jackson Pollock
I can’t explain the number of things that go through my head minute-by-minute. It’s really quite loud, so loud that I sometimes have to sit in silence, which ends up not being silent at all, but allows me to hear myself think. Usually it’s trivial things, like what I want to eat, what I want to wear, an argument with myself about whether I should run or sleep, put up laundry or not. The problem with thinking so much is sometimes I do stupid things like sleep over running and leaving my laundry to sit in a pile another day. Sometimes when the thoughts become more serious I begin writing in my journal.
Let me explain my journal. I bought it with lofty goals of it one day being published into a magnificent memoir where people would read it over coffee, talk about it with their friends, rave about it in the NY Times, etc. (one of my life goals is to publish a book, but probably a “See Spot Run” book). But what it became is the place where I cry out to God, where I make life decisions, where I list goals and lament pain. So in reality it’s just a mess, such a mess I am often embarrassed by what I’ve written and find it far from being worth a book review. Au contraire, it should be burned once I’ve dotted the last period on the last page. I don’t want anyone to read it, such an action may lead me to be committed to a mental institution. But it’s become a necessary part of my life to write down what I’m thinking, like I said, there were big decisions made on those pages.
But I digress, on to the point of this entry, I’ve just been commissioned to teach a young boy of 12 how to write, to get thoughts out of his head onto paper. And while I want to help him, I have to wonder am I equipped for such an important task? I am being asked to shape this kid’s writing future! How do I teach someone how to write his thoughts coherently when I often write serious gibberish? I wasn’t forced into this commission by any means; it’s an excellent challenge for me, much more so than making coffee. I just hope he learns something and will thank me in the opening lines of his own memoir that will undoubtedly be much more spectacular than my first attempt.
