i haven't lost much lately except a few brain cells, and that's just due to age in general. what i have lost is my sense of purpose, and that's not due to much at all.
usually i look forward to winter with a longing not unlike the feeling of thirst--the yearning for snow, as if my dehydrated body cannot live one more moment without a few shimmering flakes. but this year...i'm impartial.
yeah, i was overjoyed tuesday when i saw those bits of rain-spun silver, but today while i shopped for gloves i realized that i was actually interested in decorating for christmas.
which is something that i haven't done for years. yes, actual years.
i've never been much into holiday decorations because i own cats, and cats enjoy creating a general ruckus with any and all objects that are shiny and possibly breakable.
yes, this includes christmas trees, which are apparently set up simply for concealment and climbing purposes.
anyway while i was wandering about the store, bemoaning my state of mental disarray, i had an urge to stroll through the red and green section of the store to peruse this year's version of fashionable tree-wear and whatnot. there was a whole lot of black velveteen--in the form of oddly shaped deer forms that could adorn a mantle, i'm sure, and ornaments resembling jennifer lopez' earrings and/or the discards of a rummage sale at boy george's home.
nothing against said celebrities but honestly...who decided that christmas needed to be so terribly overdone?
that is when i realized that my malaise comes not from the lack of indefinables--no, not in the least. it's the fact that i have far too much.
i've got a computer with endless possibilites stored in neat rows of sparkling chips. books lined up wall to wall, cats that are happy to sit on my lap and purr or play with string. i've got baking that i could do, people to visit, something that is begging to be written from the depths of my brain. crosswords to finish, a kitchen to sweep, checks to deposit in the bank. a car to find, clothing to launder, and a partridge in a pear tree.
well, not the partridge.
there's a line in kahlil gibran's "the prophet" that i'm going to mangle, something to the effect that you could not know one thing without knowing the other--that what makes you sorrowful is what once gave you joy. and i'm sure vice versa.
there's plenty in life for me to be thankful for--i have a job, i have a fridge full of food, i have a loving man willing to give me all the hugs i crave. and yet i feel a certain sense of emptiness, in that i am probably not doing a job that i enjoy, and i do spend a great deal of time at said occupation.
as my dear cari would say, so what am i going to do about it?
i suppose i could start by making a list, since lists are the only way that i can get things completed. otherwise i hare off far too much and end up with my nose between the pages of my latest novel-shaped acquisition. perhaps put out my feelers again and see what is available in the land of milk, honey and capitalism, and see if perhaps i can find not what i have lost, but simply that which i have yet to find.
