Mania
So, The responses to my Grandparents blog were just fantastic. I love the colorful stories posted. It feels wonderful to invoke those kind of memories.
Today is going to be a boring post. I just want to expunge some nervous energy:
About twice a year I have a manic kind of episode. It usually follows a period of depression and is sometimes a reaction to depression. This is one of those episodes. I become overly excited about the world. I am inspired and emotional. I revisit the free-spirited character trait which has become buried by mundane daily tasks and the "grind". I have a billion ideas. Endless analytical conversations with others is my priority. I become superstitious. I feel incredibly "on" but without anything actually productive happening. I get easily confused about what is important in my life. This is an overwhelming feeling much motivated by major transition. I have bizarre dreams with seemingly no purpose. I want to buy trashy magazines and embrace television again. I reconsider my aversion to seafood. I think I should become an activist or join the Peace Corps. I want to write a novel about my life. I get interested in strangers on my bus and wish for their well-being. I know that something is upon me, but I have no patience to explore what might be revealed.
One way I could positively channel this energy is by working on an free lance editing job I've picked up. The documentary, a play by play of an unusual Hindu ritual in honor of the Goddess Kali, is packed with interviews in a rare Indian dialect. I am frustrated about the language barrier and fear that I am not properly expressing what the interviewees are trying to convey. It is a fabulous challenge. I've been procrastinating the whole thing for fear of not doing it perfectly. A typical behavior.
Little known fact: I played the guitar in my youth for quite sometime. I gave it up when alcohol and drugs became more important. I recently acquired a very cheap blue acoustic nylon string git-bucket. It stares at me every evening begging to be fondled. This is my attempt to think about, thinking about, actually playing the poor thing. It may also be another way to move this energy in the right direction.
A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds, adored by little statesmen and philosophers and divines. With consistency a great soul has simply nothing to do. He may as well concern himself with his shadow on the wall...
~ Ralph Waldo Emerson
As always, I love to hear about your mania
Today is going to be a boring post. I just want to expunge some nervous energy:
About twice a year I have a manic kind of episode. It usually follows a period of depression and is sometimes a reaction to depression. This is one of those episodes. I become overly excited about the world. I am inspired and emotional. I revisit the free-spirited character trait which has become buried by mundane daily tasks and the "grind". I have a billion ideas. Endless analytical conversations with others is my priority. I become superstitious. I feel incredibly "on" but without anything actually productive happening. I get easily confused about what is important in my life. This is an overwhelming feeling much motivated by major transition. I have bizarre dreams with seemingly no purpose. I want to buy trashy magazines and embrace television again. I reconsider my aversion to seafood. I think I should become an activist or join the Peace Corps. I want to write a novel about my life. I get interested in strangers on my bus and wish for their well-being. I know that something is upon me, but I have no patience to explore what might be revealed.
One way I could positively channel this energy is by working on an free lance editing job I've picked up. The documentary, a play by play of an unusual Hindu ritual in honor of the Goddess Kali, is packed with interviews in a rare Indian dialect. I am frustrated about the language barrier and fear that I am not properly expressing what the interviewees are trying to convey. It is a fabulous challenge. I've been procrastinating the whole thing for fear of not doing it perfectly. A typical behavior.
Little known fact: I played the guitar in my youth for quite sometime. I gave it up when alcohol and drugs became more important. I recently acquired a very cheap blue acoustic nylon string git-bucket. It stares at me every evening begging to be fondled. This is my attempt to think about, thinking about, actually playing the poor thing. It may also be another way to move this energy in the right direction.
A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds, adored by little statesmen and philosophers and divines. With consistency a great soul has simply nothing to do. He may as well concern himself with his shadow on the wall...
~ Ralph Waldo Emerson
As always, I love to hear about your mania
