7.27.2010

processing error.

Where thinking is concerned…I’m out of practice. My success in school depended on my ability to dissect whatever I read, viewed, or heard and to then fashion an intelligent afterthought. Naturally, I considered myself pretty successful, like most over-confident English majors do. But, now, I can’t seem to take anything further than, “How pleasant! I think I liked that.” Excuse me? Who is this eighty-year-old first-grader? The last few books I’ve read and movies I’ve watched are seriously profound in idea and beautiful in portrayal—I’m quite sure of that—so why am I satisfied with re-shelving the book or ejecting the DVD without understanding why these stories move me? It’s rather disappointing, really. I’m failing somewhere. I’m an average reader and mindless movie-watcher. Come on, Self, you didn’t use to be this way!

Without the threat of a due date, writing no longer has “purpose” for me. That statement alone should make me shudder--the good news is that it does. Hello, Child, writing isn’t about proving your ability, your skill, or your worth to a teacher, or anyone at all!

I need to be honest with myself. I process through pen and keyboard. I’m more thankful, more appreciative, more creative, more intellectual when I hold off a minute and let my mind wander. The first detour is meant to entice, not discourage. Keep going. Keep thinking. “I think I can, I think I can…”

In post-academic life, no one requires (or would even care for) me to spit out well-articulated analyses and arguments. But that’s not really the point, is it?

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