I had quite the unusual day today. It made me think a lot about what it like being me right now. Here are a couple of thoughts…
Yesterday, I was recovering from food poisoning, so I thought I would spend today at home. I was Acting Chair of the Department of Communication Studies & Multimedia, but I checked in and asked if it was necessary for me to come into the office for signatures or meetings. Our admin coordinator, Helena Collins – who’s wonderfully efficient and cheerful – told me no, there was nothing to sign, so I stayed at home to rest up.
In the morning I did my final edits of the UHC draft that Janna Green, my copy editor at Oxford University Press in Toronto has worked over. She is so good at what she does – I almost never disagree with her changes. She makes my prose punchier, clearer and brighter. I truly appreciate her work.
After that, I worked on a second of three book proposals I hope to submit by the end of this summer. This one has to do with linking my passion for news analysis and linguistics with public relations and current affairs research. These are uncharted waters for me, and my first single author book proposal, so I felt that odd mix of excitement, uncertainty and insecurity that one feels when embarking on a new adventure in an undiscovered territory. It’s a lonely feeling. One that I have felt several times in my life. Not entirely unpleasant, but unsettling. Like sitting in the forest a very cool breeze rustles its way through the trees and around and by you. You feel a momentary chill, but then the sun is back, shining through a break in the foliage, warming your hands and neck in spots. You feel alive.
I drove home into the sunset. It was serene and beautiful – a pastel sky with watery orange hues weaving through the grey-pink clouds like a swirling celestial dragon, from Chinese or Japanese mythology. It was so beautiful, and the light so engulfing, that I felt as though I was flying through the air, my GLK taking me to a new and beautiful undiscovered place.
It’s during these moments of creativity and serenity that I miss the companionship of life partner most. I have never lived with anyone, other than my parents when I was a kid, obviously – and have never really suffered for it. There is a great pleasure to determining the shape and colour of your day, your evening – being able to choose the rhythms of your life yourself. I am feeling more and more that I miss sharing those beautiful moments with another.
I guess I am tired of being single, in a way. Ah well – I have long abandoned the thought of chasing down love. This is one area of my life where I stumble around in the dark. Others do seem so very good at meeting and charming people. I often feel awkward and gawky around women I am interested in, strangely enough. Perhaps it is the fruit of a geeky childhood spent playing sports on sunkissed fields and reading on balconies and under shady trees.
I thought I had met a kindred spirit at the beginning of the year, but it didn’t work out. I miss emailing and sharing observations about the world with someone. I guess what I am trying to say is that I miss the poetry of telling one another stories, quiet and happy in each other’s company – not seeing the hours roll by, until it is dark and time has slipped like quicksilver through your fingers. Yes, I do miss the poetry of those moments of shared thoughts and feelings and experiences.