I've been struggling for a while with what to write here. A good many ideas have come and gone about what it might be nice to write about. Certainly there are some things I want to say about the music I encountered in 2008. There's also the proposition of turning a nice round number like 40 -- I try to approach living as a continuum, not like so many teeth on a cog that have clicked by -- yet the roundness of the thing does inevitably present the temptation to take inventory and make some kind of pronouncement. There is also the political enthusiasm of the moment that makes me feel like I'm taking walking out into warm late morning air after a hellish all-nighter that seemed to go on, and on, and on, and on.
Yet I feel I must start somewhere more basic by simply saying "I am". It's a sort of an existential defensive crouch -- a lowering of the center of mass if preparing to wrestle. The simple act of being seems to take much if not all of my energy. Either I or my world are somewhat unsettled, I am not sure which. Mrs. Geek was watching the new 90210 last night, and it offered a line that appeals at this moment: you need to make some choices about this event (a teen pregnancy) before this event chooses for you. That's what I feel like... some event has chosen for me.
I'm not sure what that event is. Is it the fact that I devoted nearly a whole decade of my life to getting a Ph.D? Is it the fact that I purchased a house just as the wave representing the mortgage crisis was breaking? Could it be the issues that Mrs. Geek and I have had during the last year with having a child? Or the fact that she is seriously pondering a change in her place of employment during these uncertain economic times?
The future is in front of me, but it completely opaque. I cannot see the way forward. I just keep trying to put one foot in front of the other, and stay on the path. I just hope that this path doesn't lead to the loss of one or both of our jobs, our house, and the money invested in it -- money scrimped and saved by my grandparents over years or decades. (A comforting thought to be sure: a wrong step not only fails me, but them.)
Yet I must ward all these thoughts away. I must be strong and stable. I must battle with the sums in my checkbook. I must cook food and do laundry. I must go to work, and go to the gym. I must take fish oil capsules twice a day, to try to lower my triglyceride levels. I must live up to the description made by the priest at my wedding to Mrs. Geek: "steady, steady, steady." I must present that everything that seems fragile is really solid, and that somehow we can move forward.
I am. *deep breath* I continue.
on 2009-01-23 at 8:33 p.m.
The Wayback Machine - To Infinity And Beyond