But seriously, people


This morning I’m torn between writing a blog post and writing my last will and testament. It appears I’ve fallen to the side of blogging. And that, my friends, is indicative of my poor choices in general and my need to make some changes. Things have gotten altogether too silly, too superficial around here and now I’m confronted with the notion that, if I die, I’m leaving behind photos of tampons autographed by Amy Sedaris.

No, I’m not going to die. We all know that. On the other hand general anesthesia is one of those relatively high-risk things, as day to day life goes. So even though I have every confidence that all will go well, I’m in the same state of mind as I am prior to getting on a 160,000 pound airliner and leaving the country for two weeks, only heightened. It’s a moment to consider everything I need to do and everything I’ve left undone.

I need to clean the house, pay the bills, empty science out of the refrigerator, change the sheets, mail about a dozen notes, cards, small packages that have been sitting here on my desk, make sure the children are running smoothly- and probably, write out a little note of sorts saying who gets the taxidermied fox if I die. I need to download one of those medical advocacy things and fill it out because I lost (analyze that) the one they gave me at pre-op and I told Rich that if I lose so much as another five points, IQ-wise, they should pull the plug. Age and hormones have already taken a serious toll on the gray matter I had left after giving birth twice.

More looming, front and center, are the bigs things left undone.

I haven’t cleaned up my act sufficiently in terms of caring about my impact on the future of this planet. My disregard is reflected in my diet, the way I mismanage our garbage and waste materials, and my unwillingness to fully utilize mass transportation.

I haven’t yet found it in me to be the Christian (Buddhist, Muslim, Taoist, Jew…) I want to be. (There go half the readers; I know- I was enjoying Amy Sedaris, too.)
I don’t measure up to even my own measly standards of kindness, charity and love and it’s not that I’m hoping to buy my way into Heaven. If there is such a thing, I’m fairly sure it’s free admission for most of us. But I am unbending in stupid matters of will and I am stubborn and selfish. Hopelessly selfish. I believe in tithing, not necessarily in the passed plate, but in the sense that I should be able and willing to give at least a tenth of myself to The First Church of Those Who Haven’t. Hell, I should rejoice in the fact that I am in a position to do that. And yet, I don’t. I’m unhappy about that. And don’t bother negating that one in the comments because it may or may not be true about you, but it’s certainly true about me and this is about me and there’s no way I’m giving myself a pass on that one.

Here’s a big one I fear is left undone: beyond my children and mother nature, I haven’t yet found true love on this earth. I’m not certain on this, because I love my husband in a rock solid way, completely and totally, for better and worse (that’s been tested) and in work and play. And yet. There are moments when I hold myself separate from him and those are times when I am afraid or overwhelmed with sorrow. If it is “true love” aren’t you supposed to turn towards that person in those moments? I just don’t know. Maybe it’s not about love but about trust. Or maybe it’s funky chemistry. I have to think about that and I still haven’t done that yet and I need to spend some serious time in self-examination. I should because one of us, at some point, is going to die first and that will be a scary and sorrowful time, yes?

Undone: Reading enough to write a book. I read plenty- two, three books per week.
Right now I’m reading The Omnivore’s Dilemma by Michael Pullen and Blindness by Nobel Prize Winner Jose Saramago. One, a factual history of four meals that will make you want to puke and then rethink your place in the food chain and the other a masterful allegory. So, I read a lot. But have you been in the bookstore or library lately? Now that people order off of Amazon and other online services, it’s easy to disregard the mountains of fine, fine literature out there. And with all of that we don’t need more dreck cluttering up the place so I’m not writing until I read a lot more.

Undone: I haven’t persevered in the pursuit of what might be a real talent and that is some artistic expression of my gifts around form and texture and color and nature. That sounds vague (because I haven’t really pursued it) but I suspect I have the sort of brain and sensitivity that lends itself to either fiber arts or photography or landscape architecture in a better-than-your-average-bear sort of way. I think it might be in some innovative combination of those sensibilities. It’s not about surpassing the artistic talents of others; I just think I have some exceptional talent there that I haven’t fully tapped into and I would like to find the focus to do that for myself. I tinker too much in my life- with knitting, “taking pictures”, gardening, weaving, writing, cooking- and don’t really go deep.

Undone: I can’t do Vrschiksana in yoga. There are a lot less difficult things in yoga that I also cannot do and this is a good example of another area, where if I applied myself, I could do it and I would be happier and feel better and be healthier.

Okay, you get the idea. Lots of things I haven’t done going into general anesthesia. Or before crossing the street. I’ve been wondering where blogging fits into all of this and I think, lately, not very well. So, I am going do something about that, now, before I drift off via an IV. I met an excellent blog tech woman at BlogHer with lots of good, specific answers and ideas and positive energy all over the place. I’ve been complaining about Typepad and this blog (which is solely the fault of the author) for some time now and I’m going to switch. Hosting services, appearance, format, and most of all, content. Rather than quit blogging altogether, I’m going to try to create an online journal that is more closely aligned with the things that I think and hope are important to me. If that fails, I may have to get a job.

I’ll let you know when the new site is up and how to link to it. Should be just a few days. See you on the other side!

25 responses to “But seriously, people

  1. Another thing you haven’t done yet — come for Therapy Night. We’re at Emil’s tonight. Want to join us?

  2. Sheeesh, Vicki, cut yourself some slack, okay? No one is perfect and you will kill yourself trying to be. So what if you fail at some things? It’s important that you try, isn’t it? The yoga stuff woul dbe great if you could do it, but I wouldn’t beat myself up if I couldn’t.

    Please don’t fail to let us know where you’re moving. You may think that what you write here is trivial, but it really isn’t. You teach more in one paragraph than most women in a decade.

  3. omg this is a breakup letter! with us!

    (I just got in trouble with the vp of hr for looking at the sedaris tampon online during work. I’m so sad.)

  4. Gosh, I’ve been feeling exactly the same way, for a long time. Except the part about the scorpion pose. That just seems unnecesary, and besides I’m still working on the headstand.
    As far as true love goes, you lost your mom and are grieving. That’s pretty intense stuff to share completely, absolutely completely. You’ve also been married a short time. It takes time to learn how to turn to each other when it counts most.

    I haven’t really blogged for almost a month and it feels good, but at the same time, I still have more thaN 15 undones. Most of all, I feel like writing more deeply, trying out fiction and not putting it out here on the internet. I want to feel like what it feels like to have just myself as an audience again.

    But it brings me a lot of pleasure to connect with you all on my blog, too. I just do a half-assed job because I’ve got a lot of other responsibilities.

    Looking forward to your new digs.

  5. Oh for God’s sake Vicki. Here I am, as blithe as can be about tomorrow’s “procedure”, having barely wasted a minute on worrying about the general anesthesia, looking forward to the morphine drip, and just generally SLACKING in the self-reflection arena. Suddenly, I feel like an underachiever.

    But hey, I did put down my religion as RC on all the hospital forms, and I did go visit my good priest friend today and recieve the Sacrament of Healing but do NOT tell my mother because she will be all triumphant and joyful.

  6. You are joining us on the dark side with your very own website?! I am eagerly waiting!

  7. Well, let’s see: when you get all that done you will be perfect. And then there will be nothing to strive for. So don’t do it. I think you are plenty Christian enough, and God (if extant) would think so too.

    Good luck on the new b**g, Vickster.

  8. We’re down to ten posts a month on our blog. It feels good. We aspire to nothing, which also feels good. I don’t know why I have no desire to shake the world, or get into heaven, I just don’t. I’m happy if I shoot one good photo a week. About love, I think it is about trust, that altogether feeling of emotional safety.

    I would miss you terribly if you moved and left no forwarding address. Your writing is always inspired.

    I hope everything went well today.

  9. O the drama!

    Tell me you already have a will? You of all people must have a will. Maybe not up-to-moment with the signed tampons, but…

    Thinking of you. Struck by the “true love on this earth” honesty.

  10. How do you manage to find the humor in contemplating mortality? That you look yourself firmly in the eye (No, don’t try to picture it) attests to your genuineness and insight. There are worse legacies to leave behind than autographed tampons; you gave us all a laugh, brightened our day, raised our spirits. No small feat, and not to be dismissed lightly. I’ll raise a glass in your honor this evening, and look forward to the day we can share a drink in person.

  11. I think a bout of introspection is always good for a person, no matter what brings it on. I go through periods of mental crisis too, but not necessarily because of general anesthesia. Your talk of a new blog makes me nervous because I love this one just the way it is. I have a bit of trouble adjusting to change! See you on the flip side.

  12. Good luck with the procedure, you’ll be fine, you know.

    Good luck with the new blogging format/hosting thing. I’m seriously ready for a change and so I’ll be watching with great interest.


  13. Uh Oh. I, like, so totally, understand this whole post. Yikes! I’m going to cover my mirrors right this minute.

    See, this is pretty darn close to being exactly what I meant when I posted that I put out the “disaster folder” on my desk before we left on our mini-micro-vacation – and we weren’t even flying over water. Over anything.

    I”m looking forward to whatever you bring next.

  14. Count me in as one who finds you inspirational and thought-provoking, even when you chalk your contributions up to mere ‘blather.’

    Sister, I know blather. I can provide many examples of mindless prattling and rambling blather over on my own blog.

    You don’t know from blather….!

  15. good luck, good luck.

  16. Oh, my. This is packed–but as you have a dozen or so well wishers who basically cover it all, I’m going to go back to the 14th century and say “All will be well, and all will be well, all manner of things will be well.” Julian of Norwich.

    Prayers for you…

  17. The only thing better than doing Vrschikasana would be being content while waiting and having faith that attaining this pose is, as in true love and ecological balance and anything honorable and worthy in this life, out of your control and utterly and wholly/holy in the hands of God, who loves you and has left nothing undone in you whatsoever.


  18. Good luck with tomorrow. Please let us know when your new site is up and running.

  19. YOu bare your soul well, Vicki. Thanks for being so transparent to all of us. We all have our moments where we feel we have fallen dreadfully “short” of the mark. You have left much for those around you to take joy in…and yet…I think a good dose of looking for the undone things in life is healthy and productive. I especially liked your honesty about relationships (with your husband)…and your unwillingness to trust and give 100%…I think it’s the last 10% that’s the hardest…but the most rewarding. Don’t get discouraged..you’re not only on the right trail…you’re leading the way.

  20. I hope you recover quickly and are back in your rare form soon.

  21. I have been thinking about you intently. And also about your book. I am going to go email you now. Please let us know the new address, and best wishes this week with your surgery.

  22. gawd. I didn’t see Jen or Kazoofus or Cursing Mama today. (yesterday). A bridge fell into the river during rush hour on the busiest highway around here about the time jen and dash were supposed to be on it. life is so damn stressful around here.

    and you. your blog. it is moving? oy. and now surgery. and wills. and all of this other stuff. and tampons and me not getting to chicago. and it is nearly 2 am and the headache is just beginning to fade. light at the end of the tunnel. and i get to drive my parents to the airport tomorrow. and then what? more furniture shopping?

    love love. I certainly hope all went well. I know that it did but I hope we hear soon that it did.

  23. Keri… keep us posted, if you hear anything about our missing bloggers… m’kay? Living in city where we have to cross bridges to get anywhere, that news makes me really stop and think. I’m hoping and praying that they are OK!

    And here I was just checking in to worry about you, dear one Vicki! OOF. Hope all is well. Or, well enough. 😀

  24. Good luck finding what you want … or need, and a sincere wish for a quick postop recovery.

  25. I hope that your recovery continues to go well. Love the new site. Very fetching. See you soon.

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