Exploring Joy
How is that for a dramatic and breathtaking first blog post title?
Perhaps it evokes the sense that something amazing is about to happen within these pages. Perhaps it sounds trite and contrived. I certainly hope the first is the case. Amazing comes in all shapes, forms, and sizes, I suspect. It's become more and more clear to me over the last few months how amazing it is to just be alive. To be here, in this moment... to be blessed with health, happiness, and the meager means to enjoy a few comforts? Wow! Those are blessings I never want to take for granted. So much do I not want to take them for granted, that I have decided to record them. What I record, how I record it, and why it matters to me is likely best examined by knowing who "me" is.
I'm nearing forty, which makes me one of the last of the true Gen Xers to be born. This, of course, means I'm special. Just as special as all the other people in all the other generations that feel a special connection to being born in one of any number of twenty to forty year time spans. In reality, my age and my birth are likely matters of coincidence that don't define me but certainly influence me. It means that I have an affinity for 70's and 80's pop music. It means my childhood and adolescence passed by without the influence of technology products named after fruits or much technology at all beyond a VCR and a microwave. Shoot, we didn't have cable until I was in high school. It was a grand and wonderful time to be born, and I'm sentimental about those times, but I certainly don't think the decade of my birth defines me or, God forbid, elevates me in any way above those born before or after.
I live with The Mom. That's to say she is my mom. She is giving, kind, talented, funny, hard-headed, and eccentric. Not to mention she's a fabulous cook. I've not always lived with the mom. We parted ways (only physically) when I was eighteen, and through life's road found ourselves living together again about ten years ago. Our relationship is one of the dearest aspects of my life. She is my biggest supporter, my harshest critic, and my best friend. Growing up she was the stern mom. She was tough on my sister and me in all the right ways. If I do say so myself, she and my dad did a fine job. My sister and I are fairly well rounded, have stayed out of the pokey, and have never joined a cult. All in all, that's a decent resume. Nowadays, my mom is insane. I say that with all due love and respect. Living with her is an adventure in and of itself, and I wouldn't give it up for the world. Should you choose to follow my exploits, I'm sure you'll learn much more about the mom and her unique and delightful take on life. Perhaps she'll even agree to pen a few guest blog entries of her own.
I have a career that I love and am committed to 100 percent. I work in education. I probably won't write much about my work. This is not because I don't love it. It's not because life in a school is not rich with fodder that could easily bloom into entertaining and completely readable stories. It's not even because I don't want to write about it, but simply because I work in a world where my ability to honor confidentiality is important and part of displaying integrity. Just know, what I do is an important part of me, and it helps define who I am.
I live in and adore Kentucky. I grew up in Ohio in a town about fifteen minutes north of where I live now. This little town is situated smack dab in the middle of Cincinnati. Norwood, my hometown, is one of the last true bastions of the blue collar world. The death of a General Motors plant during the 1980's hoovers over the little town like a disquieted specter. I spent the majority of my life thinking I hated Cincinnati, Norwood, and this general area of the world. Oh what I wouldn't have done to escape it time and time again, but time and time again I have returned, and I find myself sliding into middle age with a blossoming appreciation for what my city is and all it has to offer. Over the past few years, I've been lucky enough to travel through many of the southeastern and Midwestern parts of the United States. When visiting these exotic locations, I have made it a point to experience as much of the local culture, food, and general ambiance as possible. This outlook has caused me to fall in love with many little towns and big cities. It hit me during a recent trip to Minnesota that I've never shown the same grace to my native land. I've recently been granting said grace, and it's caused me to fall in love, for the first time, with a place and people that I only thought I knew.
Beyond all of this, I am a sister, an aunt, a cousin, a daughter and granddaughter, and a friend. No different than so many others. Will I write about these things? Maybe not in so many words and maybe so, but they can't be avoided because they are me. My relationships drive me. This also is not unique to me. We are relational beings. I love food and cooking and farmer's markets and cooking shows and everything culinary. I suspect those loves will come up often. I am a cancer survivor. Cancer was a colossally stupid and unpleasant moment in my life that I have no intention of giving power to by dwelling on, but it's part of my story, and I'm sure it colors my prose to some degree. My first and truest love is nature. My Pa-Paw and Ma-maw (I told y'all I live in Kentucky) had me in the woods and on the fishing bank from the moment I was born. I don't know life without knowing a great love for nature. I am an artist (not a great one) and a lover of all artistic pursuits. I am a student of history and culture.
But mostly, I love people. I don't love people in that super outgoing way that some people love people. Sheesh, those people. I love people in that I love good conversation. I love learning about lives and the stories behind those lives. I love to observe and consider what makes those around me tick. I love that people just naturally seem to overcome and that in overcoming joy is released into the world. Understanding that I truly love people and that people are what makes this world interesting and beautiful is also a reality that came to me with a little age and wisdom. I think that will be a big part of what I write about.
All of these things... all of this "me-ness" has come together on this random Thursday in July to inspire me to finally start my own blog. This is an idea that's been in the planning stages for a long time. God wants me to write. I know this because he made me fairly decent at it, and He has given me a lifelong desire to do it. So, do it, I shall. We'll see where it leads. I see so much in this world that makes me think, that makes me laugh, that makes me happy, that makes me sad, that fills my heart with love, and I want to share it. I hope you'll join me for the adventure.
Perhaps it evokes the sense that something amazing is about to happen within these pages. Perhaps it sounds trite and contrived. I certainly hope the first is the case. Amazing comes in all shapes, forms, and sizes, I suspect. It's become more and more clear to me over the last few months how amazing it is to just be alive. To be here, in this moment... to be blessed with health, happiness, and the meager means to enjoy a few comforts? Wow! Those are blessings I never want to take for granted. So much do I not want to take them for granted, that I have decided to record them. What I record, how I record it, and why it matters to me is likely best examined by knowing who "me" is.
That'd be me; stuck in traffic for seven hours
I'm nearing forty, which makes me one of the last of the true Gen Xers to be born. This, of course, means I'm special. Just as special as all the other people in all the other generations that feel a special connection to being born in one of any number of twenty to forty year time spans. In reality, my age and my birth are likely matters of coincidence that don't define me but certainly influence me. It means that I have an affinity for 70's and 80's pop music. It means my childhood and adolescence passed by without the influence of technology products named after fruits or much technology at all beyond a VCR and a microwave. Shoot, we didn't have cable until I was in high school. It was a grand and wonderful time to be born, and I'm sentimental about those times, but I certainly don't think the decade of my birth defines me or, God forbid, elevates me in any way above those born before or after.
I live with The Mom. That's to say she is my mom. She is giving, kind, talented, funny, hard-headed, and eccentric. Not to mention she's a fabulous cook. I've not always lived with the mom. We parted ways (only physically) when I was eighteen, and through life's road found ourselves living together again about ten years ago. Our relationship is one of the dearest aspects of my life. She is my biggest supporter, my harshest critic, and my best friend. Growing up she was the stern mom. She was tough on my sister and me in all the right ways. If I do say so myself, she and my dad did a fine job. My sister and I are fairly well rounded, have stayed out of the pokey, and have never joined a cult. All in all, that's a decent resume. Nowadays, my mom is insane. I say that with all due love and respect. Living with her is an adventure in and of itself, and I wouldn't give it up for the world. Should you choose to follow my exploits, I'm sure you'll learn much more about the mom and her unique and delightful take on life. Perhaps she'll even agree to pen a few guest blog entries of her own.
The Mom and Me
I have a career that I love and am committed to 100 percent. I work in education. I probably won't write much about my work. This is not because I don't love it. It's not because life in a school is not rich with fodder that could easily bloom into entertaining and completely readable stories. It's not even because I don't want to write about it, but simply because I work in a world where my ability to honor confidentiality is important and part of displaying integrity. Just know, what I do is an important part of me, and it helps define who I am.
I live in and adore Kentucky. I grew up in Ohio in a town about fifteen minutes north of where I live now. This little town is situated smack dab in the middle of Cincinnati. Norwood, my hometown, is one of the last true bastions of the blue collar world. The death of a General Motors plant during the 1980's hoovers over the little town like a disquieted specter. I spent the majority of my life thinking I hated Cincinnati, Norwood, and this general area of the world. Oh what I wouldn't have done to escape it time and time again, but time and time again I have returned, and I find myself sliding into middle age with a blossoming appreciation for what my city is and all it has to offer. Over the past few years, I've been lucky enough to travel through many of the southeastern and Midwestern parts of the United States. When visiting these exotic locations, I have made it a point to experience as much of the local culture, food, and general ambiance as possible. This outlook has caused me to fall in love with many little towns and big cities. It hit me during a recent trip to Minnesota that I've never shown the same grace to my native land. I've recently been granting said grace, and it's caused me to fall in love, for the first time, with a place and people that I only thought I knew.
I don't own this image
Beyond all of this, I am a sister, an aunt, a cousin, a daughter and granddaughter, and a friend. No different than so many others. Will I write about these things? Maybe not in so many words and maybe so, but they can't be avoided because they are me. My relationships drive me. This also is not unique to me. We are relational beings. I love food and cooking and farmer's markets and cooking shows and everything culinary. I suspect those loves will come up often. I am a cancer survivor. Cancer was a colossally stupid and unpleasant moment in my life that I have no intention of giving power to by dwelling on, but it's part of my story, and I'm sure it colors my prose to some degree. My first and truest love is nature. My Pa-Paw and Ma-maw (I told y'all I live in Kentucky) had me in the woods and on the fishing bank from the moment I was born. I don't know life without knowing a great love for nature. I am an artist (not a great one) and a lover of all artistic pursuits. I am a student of history and culture.
Those to which I am a sister and an aunt
But mostly, I love people. I don't love people in that super outgoing way that some people love people. Sheesh, those people. I love people in that I love good conversation. I love learning about lives and the stories behind those lives. I love to observe and consider what makes those around me tick. I love that people just naturally seem to overcome and that in overcoming joy is released into the world. Understanding that I truly love people and that people are what makes this world interesting and beautiful is also a reality that came to me with a little age and wisdom. I think that will be a big part of what I write about.
Just a small handful of the people I love
All of these things... all of this "me-ness" has come together on this random Thursday in July to inspire me to finally start my own blog. This is an idea that's been in the planning stages for a long time. God wants me to write. I know this because he made me fairly decent at it, and He has given me a lifelong desire to do it. So, do it, I shall. We'll see where it leads. I see so much in this world that makes me think, that makes me laugh, that makes me happy, that makes me sad, that fills my heart with love, and I want to share it. I hope you'll join me for the adventure.
Beautiful....
ReplyDeleteThank you!
DeleteSwoon! I am hooked already! I've always loved your Thompson-esque style of writing. So glad you are writing again and I'll look forward to more!
ReplyDeleteDude, you just called my writing Thomson-esque... this is the happiest moment of my life! :)
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