"I can't imagine not feeling this way."

I've thought those exact words a few times in my life. As soon as I think them, it's like they break a spell, because I can, suddenly, envision a time when the way I'm feeling won't make any sense to me anymore. It just won't be part of my reality. In fact, thinking these words is often in reaction to something new in my life, and by now I know to take them as a sort of warning. I might even reflect on how foolish I was once upon a time. Whether it's how I feel about someone,* or something I strongly believe in,** or just how I feel in general, eventually it does swing back around the other way. I mean, I do have principles, and stick to many of them, but I'm open to new information and admitting when I'm wrong. I've also been either blessed or cursed, depending on how you look at it, with the ability to simultaneously see two sides to every story, making it easy to empathize but hard to make a decision. If I were in politics, I'd be labeled a flip-flopper from day one. Similarly, my friendships are like a retirement plan - they have their ups and downs but overall I expect we'll come out ahead at the end. In Judaism there is a teaching that we should keep two (metaphorical) pieces of paper in our pockets. In one pocket should read "The earth was made for me," for times when we need a little boost, and in the other pocket should read "I am dust and ashes," for when we are getting too cocky and need a dose of humility. Understanding, not avoiding, these changes are what life is about and balance between the extremes is the point.

*This post was partly inspired by a trilogy of books by Catherine Gilbert Murdock about a teenage girl. There is much discussion of relationships, which resonated particularly strongly with me.
**It was also partly inspired by The Year of Living Biblically by A.J. Jacobs, which I am finally reading at my friend Beth's nudging. It reminds me of my various experiments following different religious and spiritual practices over the years, and how I'm still learning and changing.

Lost to Reality Reading

I love it when I can just get so completely sucked into a book that I lose track of time and all I want to do is go back to it. There was a little cartoon going around on Facebook recently:

My comment was that I'm often one of the last two pictures, so approach with extreme caution and the understanding that I may not hear you the first twenty times. When I was a kid, I would get so absorbed in a book that my mother would stand in the doorway and say my name over and over, and five minutes after she gave up, I would look up. It was like I was hearing words spoken through a long tunnel, and by the time the sound traveled to me and registered as something wanting my attention, the source had disappeared. I'm sure it was utterly frustrating to my mother and anyone trying to get my attention. I'm just glad she never forbade me to read or yanked the book away (that I remember), but she has to know I get my love of reading from her!

Another person who loved to read was my friend Helen, who passed away two years ago. I remember one conversation in which she said that she didn't watch much tv, but rather came home and started reading and couldn't tear herself away, but in much the same way as people can't tear themselves away from the tv. In an effort not only to simplify my life, but also be a little more like Helen, who was a great role model and who I still kind of want to be when I grow up, I'm trying to make more time for reading. For me, this doesn't really require turning off the tv, but rather, closing the laptop.

This will not be a problem tonight. I have to admit that I was not overly excited about starting our new book club book, Dairy Queen (by Catherine Gilbert Murdock), but tonight, about halfway through, I hit a patch of plot twists that really intrigued me. Now I can't wait to get back to it! So what am I still doing up and online, you ask? Good question... good night!

Ice Skating

My friend Rachel and I have known each other since we were ten. That year, our paths crossed no fewer than three separate ways: open swim time at the YMCA, summer camp, and a mutual friend’s sleepover birthday party. Seeing as we were destined to be friends, we shrugged and started spending massive amounts of weekend time together, since we didn’t go to the same school until high school. One of many things that we would do together was go ice skating. We did this many, many times, and it was how I learned to go from inching my way around the rink edge to finally letting go and making it all the way around without holding on. To give you a taste of how this particular ritual would go, let’s fast forward to a few weeks ago, when I told Rachel I was finally taking the ice skating lessons I’d been denied as a kid.

Rachel: But you already know how to skate!

Amy: No, Rachel. YOU know how to skate. And you would take my hand and skate really fast and then let go!

Rachel: Oh yeah. Ha!

I have been ice skating with friends since those days (including one memorable winter day in DC where I fell spectacularly onto my butt) and can generally make it around the edge. But lately, that childhood dream has been needling its way to the surface. I have some free time, and some extra money, and so I put out a call on Facebook for friends to join me for lessons at the local skating rink. My friend Mike took me up on it and we headed out to the rink. On Sundays it's me, and Mike, and a bunch of little kids (but we have our own teacher) tearing up the rink. I have this dream that we will learn how to do jumps and fancy things, but I realized at this week's lesson, when we were learning how to glide on one skate, that the building blocks for all of it is balance, something which I sorely lack, and stronger ankles. Now I stand on one foot around the house, like I did when I was taking dance classes... just to practice. 

Maybe next week we'll cover jumps. Hope springs eternal!

Why Supernova?

Just thought I'd explain the name of the blog. "Supernova" was the title of the song that happened to come on shuffle as I was trying to think of a name for this blog. “Call me supernova” is how I thought the line started, but the actual line is more depressing and unsuitable for this blog (“Gone, the supernova’s over, burned out”). The word supernova also reminded me of so many things all at once:

• That song that got me thinking, which has to do with the singer’s battle with cancer, because so many people close to me have suffered and are suffering through treatments;
• My family's old orange Chevy Nova, which my sister learned to drive on, affectionately but semi-scornfully called the little orange scooter; 
• The astronomy class my friend Andrew and I took one summer when we over-bonded during class, Sex and the City marathons, and generally spending 24/7 together;
• How I know, because of that class, what a supernova is, and how I feel like bursting sometimes when I’m writing in my head and am just trying to hold onto the words until I can get to a piece of paper or computer before they and their magical sounds go sliding out of my distressingly short memory.

So, you can call me Supernova (plain old supernova.blogspot.com was taken by someone who hasn't posted since 2001... grrr), and hopefully this blog will give me a way to capture those words and share them. So far, so good.

Welcome, and Happy New Year!

New Year’s Goals:

1. Be nicer

2. Be calmer

3. Think about what I want to be when I grow up (now that I’m halfway through my master’s degree…)

4. Get something published

I don't like the phrase "I want to be a writer." I understand the meaning it conveys to most people: it means that the speaker is not currently paid for writing, and would like to be. They would like to earn a living by writing. It is true that I do not do that and would like to. So in that sense, I want to be a writer.

But I've always been a writer, regardless. Being a writer is not being able to sleep because there are words rolling themselves up into beautiful sentences and banging against the door of your mind to get out and onto paper. Being a writer is spending your free time as a child creating stories because you read too damn much. Being a writer is processing the world through your imagination and words. Being a writer is knowing that even though you're not a night person, you can count on that second wind at your computer at 9:45pm that makes you never want to go to bed. I am a writer, because even though it's not how I make a living, it's how I live.

 

Among the folders on my computer’s desktop are two are called “Work” and “Play.” Within the “Play” folder is a folder called “Writing.” I often wonder whether it’s in the right spot. If I really wanted to make a career out of writing, maybe it should be in the “Work” folder. But then would it stop being fun? Or maybe it should get its own folder altogether? Then again, if I really wanted to make a career out of writing, maybe I should take it out of the conditional and say, “If I really want to make a career out of writing, I will put it into the present tense and get on with it already.” It's not conditional, it's just the condition of things.

Hence, the blog. The inspiring writers I am privileged to call my friends write as regularly as possible and I want to get better at it. I have had a blast writing other blogs, especially my blog when I lived in Australia. I even have a great time writing emails, Facebook posts, and texts, and those might make an appearance here if they strike me as particularly clever or hilarious. But mostly I want to write publicly because it’s good to get feedback on my writing. So please, comment! I can use the encouragement, and it’ll keep up the momentum!