The List

I haven't written anything in quite a while. To be honest this blog intimidates me. I am one of those people who, if they can't do something perfectly, prefer not to attempt it all. I do not write because I am afraid that I will only write garbage. Useless mumblings of a loser of average intelligence with nothing important to say. This is my fear, my insecurity that prevents me not only from writing but from pursuing life and all the challenges it presents. I know that I am doomed to fail. I realize that I do not know myself very well. My interests and opinions are flighty and shallow and my path is anything but clear. There are some interests that have lasted through many years and that I still feel strongly and passionately about but they get lost in a scramble of frivolous research and flights of fancy. I see my lifelong interests as devoid of any merit or simply beyond my abilities. I have been trying, of late, to recognize those things that matter to me.

For my own benefit, a reminder, a list of those interests that have stood the test of time.:

Human rights: I have been a member of, and avid letter writer for, Amnesty International for more than a decade but in the last year I seem to have lost my outrage, my passion and my hope. I have an innate respect for "different" peoples, religions and customs, patience for differing world views and a willingness to defend the ideals of freedom, responsibility and equality. This is not a passing, or "fair weather" trait but one that I strive to live by every moment of every day.

Tea: Yep, I am a tea whore. I couldn't even tell you how many boxes of tea I own at this moment. More than twenty, that's for sure. And tea cups, and saucers, and sugar bowls and creamers. I love the art and ritual of tea, not in the Japanese sense, but the British High Tea. Little sandwiches and pastries and fine hand painted china, raised pinkies and impeccable etiquette.. Aah, that is lovely. I could ramble on about tea and tea services but Ill leave that for another day.

Beauty: As cliche as it sounds I am a person who thrives on, who is inspired by beautiful things. Trees, a squirrel running along a fence (watch one sometime!), a peony in bloom, a spider web in the sunlight, the running waters of a river teeming with growth and life. Nature in all her glory, even those things in nature not celebrated in prose and poetry have there own distinct beauty that when looked at with new eyes, or ears, or nose can be wondrous. Compost heaps magically changing from waste to nutrient dense soil from which new life will spring. Worms aerating the soil, even the dung that feeds other life. Of course, give me a beautiful home, lovely clothes, perfume in a simple and well designed bottle, lipstick in an ornate and shiny tube, all of these are necessary to life. What is the point if your surroundings, everything you see, smell and touch do not bring pleasure. Pleasure is what separates us from the animals (though I'm sure that many animals enjoy their particular pleasures!). Form and function are the ideal. What is that saying "Do not keep anything in your home that you do not find either useful or beautiful" (or something like that) but...yeah. Of course my problem is that I find myself feeling guilty for desiring pleasure and beautiful things. They are not true necessities for life. Are they not frivolous? Are they not elitist? I don't know, I'm confused. I feel as if I am in the closet about this, feeling self conscious about wanting nice things. Maybe while drinking I lived so long wrapped up in my self, unaware of the outside world that now I don't know how to change, how to embrace being a person who wants to wear cute shoes, maybe a skirt, lipstick and a little expensive perfume too.

Well, enough rambling for tonight. To be continued....