I was thinking…

by josephzizys

I was thinking about writing again, I thought I might make a book sort of modelled after Either/Or except instead of two volumes I would make the book with the two parts on facing pages. The first part would be a memoir, filled with sensuality, domesticity, conflict and mess. The second part would be a manual of Buddhism, like Buddhaghosa’s or Santideva’s. They would be connected yet separate, both attempting to tell the truth, both lying through their teeth. I have some materials, scraps mostly, more for the memoir than the manual, but probably a fair quantity for both. It is time I can’t seem to find. I am separating from my partner, working, and attempting to remain involved in the lives of my children. ( I just kissed my youngest’s injured hand) I also occasionally fancy that I want some kind of social life, or even, god forbid, a sex life. But I would like to have some sort of statement, some work, at which I could point and say; “there, I did that, I said that, it may not be any good, but it’s finished and it’s mine”. Pride probably, but why should I deny myself the motivation of one more vice in the endless list of failings that I find that without awareness I turn out already to have. So it goes. My eldest is screaming because he scraped his leg. He has no pain threshold at all. And he is a very loud and demonstrative screamer. I think he may grow up to be an artist. I suppose I only have myself to blame. and praise. I should just forget it, this nonsense about writing, but it bubbles along in me, needling me, and even though I am a great master at avoiding things I wish to avoid, I cannot avoid it entirely. So maybe one day I will manage to succumb. I hope so. “Take more positive risks in life” said a person I stalk on the internet. I am hoping there is a change working its way through me that frees me to do just that. But who knows. We know ourselves least of all, and we certainly know little enough of others.