Some Things You Can't Write

In the old days journals were private writings that only the writer read. They were used for all sorts of things but were considered private and sacrosanct. Blog postings are a kind of journal for the modern age, but are public rather than private. Care should be taken to be sure that what is written is accurate, and if remarks are hurtful or mean-spirited the writer better be ready to take the heat. It's easy to rail about politics and political correctness. It's easy to poke fun at anomymus people and events. It's easy to reflect on a life well or badly lived. But a fair number of essays are written as drafts or in the head and then discarded in favor of civility. Publicly lashing out at the President for something is OK, but don't lash out at your boss publically. Talking about an old roommate who had a big and funny nose is OK, but don't describe your best friend in unflattering terms. See what I mean?

I love writing these little essays that range over "Woodys World" high and low. To anyone interested in someday putting thoughts on "paper" and hanging them out for the world to see I say this: Editing is more important than writing. Write it; let it rest; read it; edit it; let it rest; read it again. If you still want everybody to read it THEN publish. Saves a lot of grief in the long run to be somewhat circumspect about what you say publically.

By the way, this goes for Facebook too.

Image: http://coachcreativespace.ning.com/groups/group/show?groupUrl=journeyofjournals

Significant Others

Don’t you just love to hate the term “significant other”? Code for what exactly? I suppose if you go back to the dark ages of the 70’s and early 80’s this was a person with whom you were probably “living in sin” or close to it but didn’t qualify for the appellation husband or wife. In those days the majority assumption was that the “other” was indeed the other sex from yours. Gays also used the term to indicate a solid relationship and for many the assumption of “other” obscured the sex of the partner. The term sort of settled into meaning anyone someone was committed to in a relationship and marrieds used it to indicate their spouse.
I have never been comfortable with the limitations of the above. To me, significant others are all sorts of people that are a significant part of a life. Siblings, cousins, best friends. Not the milkman (OK Barbara: Milk person) or bag person at the grocery store though. Not close enough.
Then on the scene comes the term “life partner”, used mostly by Gays that have been denied the right of Marriage. I like the term “partner” more than spouse, though. Partnership carries with it a demonstrable sharing of responsibilities and resources whereas spouseship is a vague and slippery condition. I like the sound of “partner”, and having a life partner is a wonderful thing. Having a wife or husband that is also a partner and best friend is just plain wonderful. And this combination should be available to everybody.
Today the terms for someone that shares your life on a more or less permanent basis are numerous and somewhat fluid, but all convey a kind of permanence. Although it is easy enough to do-si-do your way through life changing partners with every dance, I see this as a road with a gloomy and lonely end.
So grab your partner and get out on the floor of life and dance until dawn. Then dance until dusk. (For an additional treat go to the link below and read about the DIY parade and look at all the photos. Life as it should be.)
Image: www.indybay.org/newsitems/2008/01/04/18470067.php

Don’t Forget to Smell the Roses

I got an email this morning telling of an old friend whose mother just died. I didn’t know her, but knew she was ailing. So no surprise. I also got an email from a colleague who is working on fall scheduling. These do not appear to be related in any sense other than they both arrived this morning But they are and here is how: they both serve to remind all of us that time moves on and life is short. On the one hand, the passing of a dear friend or relative is a direct reminder of mortality and the shortness of this experience called “life”. On the other, working more or less all the time leads to an accelerated journey to the end of life without time for reflection, relaxation or “loving time”.
You know the old line: He worked right up to the day he died. To which I say “bullshit”. Sure, I still work some. I love my students and colleagues, and never want to be totally without them. But I look forward to down time and quiet time and reflective time, and time to putz around where ever. To anybody that reads this I have this advice that is neither new nor profound: take time to smell the roses before they fade and wither. Take a little time out of the day/week/month/year/life for yourself and your partner or family or friends. Put another way and quoting Tracy Ullman: “Go home”.

Image: sudoku.com.au