This is the first Saturday I've had in a long while to do nothing. It's weird.
I've actually had a lot on my mind lately--things I wish I could discuss in detail here but can't because of the number of people who read my blog. It's funny; I used to want people to come here. But now that I want to purge, I have nowhere to go without worrying that there is someone out there whose nice little idea of me will change as a result of what I'd like to say.
Well, what the hell.
I really enjoy working on the popup buildings. I really enjoy having something to do with my hands and working steadily at something until it comes out clean, crisp, and kind of pretty--or it doesn't, and I get to start over. That kind of starting over I enjoy, for some reason.
The other kind, the kind I've felt I've had to do, repeatedly, in the past couple of months, has not been so fun.
I think I can sum everything up (and avoid sharing too many details) by saying that I'm most afraid of wasting time. I'm afraid that I'll waste time on the wrong person. I'm afraid that I'll waste time on myself. I'm afraid that I'll waste time being afraid.
All things considered, though, I'm in a much better place than I was three months ago.
When I went home last month, I visited the family turtle in the lanai. He's been sitting in that tub for over five years now. In all that time, he's seen nothing but the little floating plants that he's been given, his food, and the sides of his tub. He's still alive, though, and looks pretty stoical about everything.
He reminded me of the world turtle, actually--that big old beast carrying all existence on his back, seeing everything happen and happen again for centuries and centuries and centuries, and swimming on despite it all.
I wish I knew their secret.