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the middle the middle the middle. holla.

June 10, 2011
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oh yeah.
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stealer’s wheel had it right. apparently, i’m stuck in (at!) the middle.
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the thesis is chugging along like a little blue locomotive (i think i can, i think i can, etc, etc.) … well, at least i want it to be. but right now i’m held up, caught in adapting to a new schedule (full time work and a commute and a wake up call of 5 45 every day) and trying to balance all aspects of my life into this new timeline. and all of a sudden, i’m working harder than i ever was before to try and slip the thesis in. sometimes i’m so tired at the end of the day that i can’t even think about writing. sometimes all i can do is come home, change into yoga clothes, and run to a yoga class, and there goes my whole night.
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sidenote: is this what being a grown up is all about? because if so, wow. i underestimated my parents. i don’t even have to cook dinner for a whole brood. how did they DO it?
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life seems to be about balance as of late.
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as you know, i read tarot cards. not always incredibly well, but i like them, and when i feel the urge to read my own cards (which is very rarely – probably about once a month if that) i do. and last night i felt the urge (with the help of one chris urquhart) and i read. and i got temperance. maybe some of you might think that the temperance card is a card i should (or do) get often, and maybe it is. one that i should get often, that is. because temperance is about balance, and reigning in the shadow self, and finding the middle ground. and i have not ever been the person to do that, though at times i often need to. i strike hard parallels. i am black and white, struggling to find those ubiquitous shades of grey. i oscillate between extremes, as so many writers (and artists of all kinds) do. we have cyclothymia in all forms, us creative types. we have up days and then we have down days, days that are so down that we become down, physically down, i mean supine-lying-on-the-floor down, crying down, way down, well down, down down down. and so apparently, now, this summer – this is about the middle ground.
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sounds boring, yes? sounds grown up, yes? well i’m already doing it, balancing full time work with all other aspects of my life. and somehow, even throughout the exhaustion i feel from the commute and the long days, i am already healthier. how? i’m not sure. but i’m eating healthier, and i’m eating on a proper schedule. i’m going to bed earlier and i’m dreaming about things that don’t make me tangle all sweated up in the sheets, like i often do. i’m becoming a homebody again, but i’m not upset at that. and i’ve moved my yoga classes from mid-day to 7 45, and all of a sudden my body can do things it never did in class before – apparently i have more energy at night. and walking home is quiet and purple, and i unplug my ipod and listen to kitsilano having a life for once. and now i like kits more.
now i like this city more.
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the middle, the middle. what is so exciting about the middle?
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nothing?
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it’s been proven that people either pay the closest attention to the beginning of something, or the end – the beginning because it is fresh and new, and the end because it is the last thing in their minds. the middle is amorphous, blobby, runs into each other. nothing is really remembered with clarity or sharpness. lines are muddled, and time can drag. and yet, it’s most certainly an important part because it’s so large – a chunk of text, a huge piece of story, the buttresses to the beginning and the end, the buttresses of the characters,
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it’s the bulk of the story!!
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and yet i neglected my middle. i was so excited to write the beginning (tenuous, hazy, and scattered – on purpose? who knows) and the end (solidified. nearly the same from the start. sad) that i let the middle slip. on purpose. the thought of it bored me. who cares what happens to the characters when they go off and become separate entities, when they move from taut young fury into tired middle age? i didn’t. and now i have to care.
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so that’s where i’ll be, everybody. the middle. some may call it boring, but maybe it’s time for me to temper – become temperance – and see what comes of it. see how it makes my writing move (or not move). see how it makes me feel. middle ground, right?
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