You are searching for a landing.
You have come to us from space, and I
will be ready, doctor. I will be ready.
You have come to us from space, and I
will be ready, doctor. I will be ready.
*
from “Doctor” by Alison Stine
--I tried to find her poem, but no luck. Her web site did tell me her agent--perhaps the message that the Oracle wants me to hear?
--I got home and listened to this great interview on Fresh Air with Gloria Steinem. She may be the only person who can make one's older years seem like a very attractive phase of life:
"Remember when you were 9 or 10 and you were this independent little girl climbing trees and saying, 'I know what I want, I know what I think' That was before gender descended for most of us.
Ironically, I found by 60 you're free again. So you're the same person you were at 9 or 10, only now you have your own apartment, you can reach the light switch, you hopefully have a little money. So you can do what you want."
I realize that she's very lucky. If she has health issues, she didn't talk about them If she has deep regrets, she didn't talk about them. Clearly, she has enough money--if not, again, she didn't discuss it.
Gloria Steinem has always seemed like a wise older sister, even though I realize (with a bit of shock) that she's older than my mom.
--An even older sister: Emily Dickinson. I pulled her card this morning when I used The Poet's Tarot (for more details on the deck, go here). Here, too, this card seems relevant. The guide that goes along with the deck talks about the need for solitude, perhaps a retreat. The guide says that this card gives me permission to leave my daily routine.
And yet when I get solitude, like last night, I feel too exhausted to do much with it. Of course, I did get some writerly tasks done earlier, a few submissions. So it wasn't a total bust of a day. And I did write a page of my short story last night. And a nice walk to see the Halloween lights, such as they are.
--I think of the way we all compose our lives these days, the way we are curators of our images and our stories and the ways we look for clues to our futures. I don't think that these divining rods have a clear view of the future. But I do think they can make me think about the future in ways I might not have otherwise.
--I tried to find her poem, but no luck. Her web site did tell me her agent--perhaps the message that the Oracle wants me to hear?
--I got home and listened to this great interview on Fresh Air with Gloria Steinem. She may be the only person who can make one's older years seem like a very attractive phase of life:
"Remember when you were 9 or 10 and you were this independent little girl climbing trees and saying, 'I know what I want, I know what I think' That was before gender descended for most of us.
Ironically, I found by 60 you're free again. So you're the same person you were at 9 or 10, only now you have your own apartment, you can reach the light switch, you hopefully have a little money. So you can do what you want."
I realize that she's very lucky. If she has health issues, she didn't talk about them If she has deep regrets, she didn't talk about them. Clearly, she has enough money--if not, again, she didn't discuss it.
Gloria Steinem has always seemed like a wise older sister, even though I realize (with a bit of shock) that she's older than my mom.
--An even older sister: Emily Dickinson. I pulled her card this morning when I used The Poet's Tarot (for more details on the deck, go here). Here, too, this card seems relevant. The guide that goes along with the deck talks about the need for solitude, perhaps a retreat. The guide says that this card gives me permission to leave my daily routine.
And yet when I get solitude, like last night, I feel too exhausted to do much with it. Of course, I did get some writerly tasks done earlier, a few submissions. So it wasn't a total bust of a day. And I did write a page of my short story last night. And a nice walk to see the Halloween lights, such as they are.
--I think of the way we all compose our lives these days, the way we are curators of our images and our stories and the ways we look for clues to our futures. I don't think that these divining rods have a clear view of the future. But I do think they can make me think about the future in ways I might not have otherwise.
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