|"The spreading wide my narrow Hands / To gather Paradise"|
It was a year ago today that I was officially offered a job in Texas, and it was a year ago today that I became a full-fledged member of the Fatalism Club, thereby acknowledging that everyone has a price and my price was pathetically low. Now it's nice to know that pretty soon I'll have a say in what goes on around here again... not that I'm planning on going anywhere anytime soon, but it's really pleasant not to be afraid of the Lindsay-with-an-A-of-forty-years-from-now looking back on the Lindsay-with-an-A-of-today with a slight feeling of disappointment and distaste. It's like the world is unfolding from around me rather than crumpling in, which is what an office at work with no windows often feels like.
What makes this happy feeling so unusual (of late), though, is that it is accompanied by the spark of creativity, and it's been a while since I felt that particular tingling. I am not exaggerating when I say it's been literally years. In the words of Emily Dickinson,
I dwell in Possibility--I'm so freaking excited about the future right now. Thank God... ennui is so boring.
A fairer House than Prose--
More numerous of Windows--
Of Chambers as the Cedars--
Impregnable of Eye--
And for an Everlasting Roof
The Gambrels of the Sky--
Of Visitors--the fairest--
The spreading wide my narrow Hands
To gather Paradise--