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Showing posts from January, 2006

Careful Who You Listen To

This week, I unwrapped two Dove chocolate wrappers with questionable advice. One read:

Lose yourself in a moment.

I'm sure they want me to lose myself in the moment. But with my sense of geography, the misphrased motto takes on a sinister and superfluous meaning. I can get lost in less than a minute, thank you. Or perhaps I'm supposed to get lost in a moment? (Is a moment like a black hole? Will I spin throughout the universe, in and out of dimensions?) Maybe I should just get lost. Or maybe I should lose myself in the following experience, the rapture of which, to my mind, would be minute:

Send a love letter this week.

Working Girl

Do you ever catch a sudden glimpse of what your life looks like from a distance? The role you play, the stereotype you exemplify, the stock character you would be in a dime novel? This week, facing a massive deadline, the two other editors and I decided to trade in Martin Luther King Day for this Friday. We diligently toiled in an empty office all through Monday and stayed late. We worked late on Tuesday and came in early yesterday. The deadline met, we are now frantically catching up on other tasks in preparation for the next part of the project.

Now, normally, my mind is a far-ranging thing. Each moment I am thinking, daydreaming, musing, mulling, wondering, considering, and evaluating something or other, and it could be anything from what to eat to the role of women in the church to how in the world will I find a snazzy pair of boots that fit my feet and my pocketbook to whether Dorothy Sayers was a top-notch mystery writer or merely mediocre. It's an exhausting way to live.


Isn't It Lovely . . .

. . . to realize that there is always another book by C.S. Lewis? I finished The Great Divorce last fall and now I'm meandering through a collection of his poems. Yesterday, my coworker reminded me that I haven't yet read Pilgrim's Regress. Pleasure is wonderful, but unending pleasure more so.