Demolition and construction
I have spent the last several days involved in a myriad of futile efforts. Nothing like time wasted on trying to explain yourself - though it never gets through, being obsessed about food you can't eat, and wondering which way to go at the crossroads of a career path.
I had a great day last week with Momma T, I enjoyed dinner Friday night with friends - though the crap leading up to and following it has left me with a sour taste in my mouth for all human relations. I got to play cards and dominoes at my mom's house over the weekend, and I'm now reading Stephen King's "On Writing," which I love.
The weekend and Weight Watchers does not mix; let's just say I fell WAY off the wagon.
And last but not least, I saw "The Bridge to Terebithia." It was not what I expected. It was marketed as a fantasy adventure for kids, which it wasn't at all; I guess people who had read the book knew what to expect. I spent most of the movie waiting for the kids to pass over into a mythical land and the adventure to start, but that never happened. What did happen was a pretty neat story about escaping through imagination.
Remember the days when you were a kid with nothing to do for the whole afternoon but play with your friend or friends in the woods, the backyard, or your bedroom? Immersed in imaginary scenarios with a million possibilities, everybody played a part. It was fun and engaging, and felt like good work. When the sun finally went down, or your friends had to go home, it would be like waking up from a dream.
"The Bridge to Terebithia" reminded me of that.
It also made me realize I've been so self absorbed that I haven't taken the time to really talk with Joseph, my 9 year-old, for a long while. He had read the book and was very excited to see the movie. Afterwards, when we were walking back to the car, I began telling him about the days when I played imaginary games, and he slowly started to open up and share with me some of the things he likes to imagine. I expect my kids to be little adults, but he is a still a child, and I haven't been paying attention to his world.
I want to start paying attention. It's a much more interesting world than the one I occupy. And much more relevant.
Maybe we can build a bridge together.
I had a great day last week with Momma T, I enjoyed dinner Friday night with friends - though the crap leading up to and following it has left me with a sour taste in my mouth for all human relations. I got to play cards and dominoes at my mom's house over the weekend, and I'm now reading Stephen King's "On Writing," which I love.
The weekend and Weight Watchers does not mix; let's just say I fell WAY off the wagon.
And last but not least, I saw "The Bridge to Terebithia." It was not what I expected. It was marketed as a fantasy adventure for kids, which it wasn't at all; I guess people who had read the book knew what to expect. I spent most of the movie waiting for the kids to pass over into a mythical land and the adventure to start, but that never happened. What did happen was a pretty neat story about escaping through imagination.
Remember the days when you were a kid with nothing to do for the whole afternoon but play with your friend or friends in the woods, the backyard, or your bedroom? Immersed in imaginary scenarios with a million possibilities, everybody played a part. It was fun and engaging, and felt like good work. When the sun finally went down, or your friends had to go home, it would be like waking up from a dream.
"The Bridge to Terebithia" reminded me of that.
It also made me realize I've been so self absorbed that I haven't taken the time to really talk with Joseph, my 9 year-old, for a long while. He had read the book and was very excited to see the movie. Afterwards, when we were walking back to the car, I began telling him about the days when I played imaginary games, and he slowly started to open up and share with me some of the things he likes to imagine. I expect my kids to be little adults, but he is a still a child, and I haven't been paying attention to his world.
I want to start paying attention. It's a much more interesting world than the one I occupy. And much more relevant.
Maybe we can build a bridge together.
posted by Cas at 8:29 AM
1 Comments:
you are amazing! i love you, nic
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