I watched Dangerous Minds for the first time last week. You know, that (eep!) 20 year old movie with Michelle Pfeiffer teaching inner city kids the joys of poetry.
It's not a bad movie, but it lacks a lot of the edginess that I remember seeing in the trailers when it first came out. (Or maybe it was way edgier back then, and I'm just jaded now.)
Anyway, one of the central themes of the film was choice. Do you choose to stay in a bad situation? Or do you choose to do something about it? Do you choose to accept curent circumstances?
Certainly, I'm not a high school student in the bad part of LA, but the idea of choice has been sitting on my shoulder since last week. What do I choose to do? I have chosen to get an education. I have chosen to live in Boston. I have chosen to get married, to not get a driver's license.
Right now in my career I am facing new circumstances, and for a week I have been looking at the situation in a new light: I can choose to accept the new order, or I can choose to change things. I suppose I could even choose to find a new circumstance.
But I am learning that I am not "stuck" with what's going on. I have a choice. The next step is making the choice.
Wednesday, April 18, 2012
I do my best writing in the sauna. Lying there in the heat, after a vicious workout, words float through my brain and form the most beautiful sentences. Novels, essays, blog posts converge, not to mention the snappy comebacks that I wanted to be able to use hours or days before.
But too often, all that writing evaporates with the heat when I exit the sauna. That magical 15-20 minutes is the sweet spot, and then I get out, and get dressed and go home. Very rarely do those words get down in a physical (or digital) format.
It's disappointing for me not writing. I write for my job, and certainly I write emails, but rarely do I actually write just for myself. I used to write all the time, in a journal, on my laptop, on this blog. And now I'm held back.
Some of it comes from my perfectionist tendencies. I don't want words out there that aren't perfect. That aren't sourced and cited. I don't want some Internet troll to hack apart my premises.
Some of it is from self-censorship. I've had plenty of things that I wanted to discuss, but they're of a personal nature, and I know for a fact I don't want any future employer to read about these things. Nor do I want family members reading them. (So why would I write them on a public medium? Because I know so many wonderful people over the web and I'd want them to read it.)
So this is a post about the writing that I don't do. I don't write poems anymore. I don't write stories. I haven't even gotten around to writing about the amazing customer service letter I got from the Dremel company a few months ago.
And here's to the writing that I will hopefully do, when I find the right time, topic, and medium.