"The sweetest thing in all my life has been the longing."
--C. S. Lewis
We've had several friends get engaged lately, and it's got me reminiscing about the gift of falling in love, the time when you both figure out you're to be together forever, and the time leading up to making that commitment. I have always been a dreamer and I'm glad my husband is too. In the almost 2 years leading up to our marriage, we shared our dreams and hopes and goals with such wonder and excitement.
I told Eric about my dreams of living overseas, writing a book in every genre, saving the world, and finishing my Ph.D. so I could do all of the above. He shared with me his desire to have seven children, write a memoir, and see the world. Gradually we came to dream together, as an us, and we fantasized about our life together... from the decor in our first apartment to our dream house, from newlywedded "time alone" to the names of our (much fewer than seven) future children, from weekend trips to international tours, from finishing school to founding our own.
Something about being in love makes everything seem blissfully possible. I am one to put a realistic spin on things pretty quickly, but the whole point of dreaming is to shatter the impossibilities, create best case scenarios, and be willing to put your heart out there enough to believe something can happen, even if it's just in the realm of fantasy. We love our life now like crazy, and feel extraordinarily blessed, but we still dream.
And more than that we take steps to make the important dreams happen... some big, some small. Sometimes the hardest part comes when you're over halfway there, and you realize it's going to be harder than you ever thought. That last stretch before the finish line seems utterly insurmountable, but you keep going because the dream is worth pursuing, and quitting is more impossible. That's when the real dream manifests.
And that's where I am now... so close to finishing I can literally feel it, and so tired of pursuing the same dream with the same hardships and the same emotional stress. I question myself and I curse the day I decided to pursue something so hard. Knowing I can do it is almost worse, because I have no excuse to back out. So I do it. I break down when I need to, but I keep at it. I keep this picture in my head and heart of what it's going to be like when I'm there, and I pause to reflect on how great the journey is now, even when I'm so exhausted I can't think about anything else.
Tonight Eric and I dreamed for fun about taking a year off from our jobs and lives and doing whatever we wanted together. We would become movie/film/food critics, visit all 7 continents, learn how to cook from nuns in Italy, write a screenplay, star in a reality/fiction tv show, and campaign for my shot at the presidency. It feels like such freedom to really fantasize about things that seem crazy but actually aren't that far off from who we are and want to be. And it all felt possible again.
So, I kissed him goodnight and went to my computer. I sat down at 12:30 am and wrote two more pages... simple keystrokes that are bringing me closer and closer to a dream I have held for so long.
The holiday movies I just LOVE come in at a three way tie: Christmas in Connecticut, White Christmas, and A Christmas Story
Christmas in Connecticut
Fav. Quote
Elizabeth: "I'm tired of dancing to someone else's tune, tired of being told whom to marry! In short, I'm tired."
White Christmas
Another favorite since my childhood, thanks in large part to the Haynes Sisters. My sister and I had the song and most of the routine memorized! You can't top Bing Crosby and I love all the dancing.
Fav. Quote
Phil: "In some ways, you're far superior to my cocker spaniel."
A Christmas Story
I know it's a cliche, but it's still hilarious to me. The board game Mall Madness was my Red Rider bebe gun and I looked like Ralphie's brother when I tried to brave the Wyoming winters outside. Makes me laugh as much as the first watch.
Fav. Quote
Narrator: "Let's face it, most of us are scoffers. But moments before zero hour, it did not pay to take chances."
Moonless darkness stands between.
Thanks to a special Blurb (my favorite book-making and self-publishing company) was running, I found the motivation to create a Blog Book for our other blogs - Musings (my personal blog from 2005 through 2/10) and Feminist Fiancee (our engagement blog). I love digital publishing, but I'm wedded to paper preservation for the really important things.
Reading through all my Musings entries was a trip. I have always been a reflective person (and I have shelves full of completed journals to prove it), and it's always interesting to see what the common themes are. My introspection in the Musings years focused on perseverance, justice, love, identity and faith. And school, of course. I began dating Eric about halfway through, so there's a lot of poetry about falling in love and opening myself up to "us".
The themes are basically the same now, but I have a different perspective on things. I'm a bit more settled in who I am and don't feel the constant restlessness about my identity. In all I haven't changed much, but I reflect differently. Most of my reflections are conversations with Eric. I find it harder to take the time to reflect alone, probably because it feels like work. I like who I am, but I don't always want to face the deeper parts of me. The way I talk to God has also changed, and I'm not sure how to articulate that shift. It's easier to comment on gender equality or relationship issues or teaching moments than it is to expound on my own self-awareness.
When I was 17, I spoke to a woman in her late twenties and explained why I wrote poetry and prose about my life. She said that she used to write "reflective stuff" like I did when she was younger, but now wrote about things like health and world events. I remember thinking that was so crazy, why should she reflect less in her writing as she got older? But I think I understand now--both the positive and not so positive implications of that.
I suppose our reflections ebb and flow with us. I'm glad to have an account of that journey.
Last year around this time, Eric and I started writing a "Houston List" of all the things/places we want to experience in Houston that we've never done. We rarely find ourselves with an unplanned Saturday afternoon, but this weekend we did so we finally made it to Rienzi.
My imagination always runs wild in places like this, wondering what it was like to live there. We imagined ourselves on the back porch sipping wine whilst overlooking the bayou. We envisioned throwing a killer party in the "ooh, ah" room, but I'm not sure I would have let anyone touch anything because it's all essentially priceless. I also wonder what it's like to be so rich you don't have a job, just hobbies, as the Mastersons did.
All in all it's worth the trip. The tour is an hour and it's cheap to get in, then you can walk around the grounds. Another Houston gem!
Photo Credit: www.museumdistrict.org
Last night, we saw the new Nick Hornby movie An Education, starring newcomer Carey Mulligan, Peter Sarsgaard, Alfred Molina, Rosamund Pike, and Emma Thompson. It is a departure from Hornby's other screenplays, like About a Boy and High Fidelity because this films focuses on a young woman coming of age too quickly rather than men experiencing delayed adolescence. First off, I must say that I thoroughly enjoyed the film. The acting was superb across the board. Probably my favorite performance was Rosamund Pike who plays the "dumb blonde" with such subtle complexity.
The movie takes place in suburban London during the early 6os and follows 16-year-old Jenny (Mulligan) as she tries to finish high school (at an all-girls college prep school of course) and earn her acceptance into Oxford to study English. Her plans are derailed when she meets and falls in love with David (Sarsgaard), a charming 35-year-old man, whose sophistication, wealth, and status allure Jenny much more than her fruitless Latin studies. David introduces Jenny to hip jazz clubs, fancy cigarette brands, art auctions, and even Paris. She feels free from the expectations and limitations of her parents, her school, and her pre-women's-lib culture. As her education in the "school of life" begins to overshadow her traditional education, Jenny begins to become increasingly lost in the adult world, disdaining the childhood world of her peers and family. I won't give away anything else, but the themes are certainly very interesting to me given my own egalitarian leanings and my current job teaching 16-year-olds at a college prep school.
At one point in the movie, the school's headmistress (Thompson) basically tells Jenny that even though school is boring, she needs to get an education. Jenny responds by questioning why. Why should she be bored now just to get an education that will only allow her to become a teacher or service worker, boring jobs to her. Is she just supposed to be bored forever? This moment in the movie really struck me profoundly. As someone who teaches girls that are often bored with school, it seems a legitimate question. What is the point? Unfortunately because the headmistress has not really experienced life outside of her "bored" existence, she cannot really come up with a satisfying answer for Jenny. It isn't until Jenny sees that perhaps she has misjudged her English teacher (who she believes is living a "dead" life), that she comes to understand the value of an education.
In some ways, the movie's conclusion is too simple. We learn that the best things in life do not come easily or quickly without serious compromises, that we should be satisfied that we can have what we want if we work hard and have patience. But I am left wondering how an adult can really adequately communicate that to a 16-year-old girl who feels devalued, bored, and inspired only by glamour and young love. Jenny reminds me of so many of my own students, whose situations are certainly better now in the new millenium than the early 60s, but who also struggle to see the relevance of Jane Eyre to their lives (a book Jenny and my students both study). They are often bored and only find enjoyment in their boyfriends, in popular culture, and in the romantic worlds in their dreams. Why would they believe me when I tell them that an education is the only way they can get what they want in life? There is still a glass ceiling, still people who think a woman is at her best when taken care of by a man, still people who live exciting lives by compromising their moral values and taking the easy way. These forces still assault the value of an education in the eyes of a naive 16-year-old girl, especially the smart ones like Jenny.
If there is something about the movie that disturbs me, it is the fact that Jenny doesn't realize this until she has made many mistakes she regrets. I suppose the "school of life" really does teach us the most profound lessons, but as a teacher, I hope that I can prevent my students from making bad choices. In that sense, I become too similar to Jenny's overbearing father (Molina) who worries only about her future and has no sense of who she is in the present, nor her dreams and desires. Perhaps my students must make mistakes in order to see the value of a life well lived, the value of a strong education, and the value of their childhood innocence too.
Anyway, I highly recommend An Education, especially for high school teachers like myself. It has given me much to consider. I hope that if a student asks me, "What's the point? Am I just supposed to be bored for the rest of my life?" that I can answer her more honestly and effectively than Jenny's advisors.
