But the summers, since moving to Florida, have taken on a new character, something I didn't experience in the wilds of the mountains of Colorado. Here? The spirit of renewal is potent, which is weird. Normally, such things are linked to the seasons, the visible, if not downright tangible, series of events that affect us on a daily basis. Here? I'm stuck seeing time pass by the school years, something most adults don't have. No seasons, there. So the summer time is when I reconnect with my identity, my spirit, and my goals in life.
I decided after my Master's was completed that I was done with schooling in its traditional forms. I caught both mono and walking pneumonia those last three months and dropped over 52 pounds. I would teacher, write, sleep, write, grade papers, write, suddenly remember to eat, and...come closer to death. I also went through a symbolic divorce at the time and, well, the whole event ended sour, even if it was quite an accomplishment.
But I never stopped learning, I'd like to think. I noticed that when I finally moved to Florida, I was able to drop weight with sheer force of will. I was about to finish writing books. I was able to focus just a bit better on what was important.
That, friends, is learning, or, so it is, in my interpreting.
Right now? I find that I'm learning what is pulling me away from center, but that, friends, isn't the stuff this blog is made of.
But there are things I still dream of learning. Now, for this brief writing, I'm not going to pick on things that I actually, you know WANT. That's material. That's a different blog entry. Cause they don't go away. I'm still human.
And I like fun stuff.
IRISH:
This makes NO sense.
I'm a polygot. I'm already at full fledged comprehension of ASL; I like to think I have passing conversational French. I can understand it, when spoken, and can respond in English-but if there's depth or proper nouns? Nope. I can't continue.
But when you study languages, you start to see and understand patterns and it becomes increasingly easy to add further and further languages. People are really impressed by this, since their mastery of English is sketchy to begin with.
((SIDENOTE: As an English teacher, nothing tickles me more than someone insisting that another person learned English. "YOU FIRST YOU COWBELL-HUMP-TWAT." In other words? English is FUCKING hard to learn. So, like, if it were easy, and we expect people to know it, yet no one else can use it appropriately, fuck them.)
But I want to learn Irish. I can't figure it out. Perhaps since it is in my blood or something. But when I hear the old-old Chieftain music, using old Irish, I sing along, but the there's something stirring, something magical about it.
It wasn't even written down. Like the Native American tongues, it is just merely spoken and learned and English letters are used to flesh out something of the sounds.
Who will I speak it with? There's no Irish here. I don't even drink.
That was a horrible, horrible, racist, stereotype.
COOKING:
The fact is, I suck at cooking. After years of fighting the label, I've given up. I can't bake, saute, or even read, apparently. I can only make comfort foods or no bake shit that tastes like manna but sucks when you're husOtter is a diabetic.
I've requested, frequently, to be schooled by said husOtter, but, for him, the whole concept of the kitchen is profoundly different than mine. My stereotypical family showed love through food. This meant that it was always the heart. Any party MotherUnitPrime would have, there were ten to twenty people in her tiny kitchen, cooking, chatting, dancing around each other with measurements, temperatures, and spoons of taste.
I described something of porn for myself.
And for my husOtter? He's strong English stock and his parents were Brits by blood and bakers in due kind.
Have you ever tried British baked goods? Nom. Not only that, think about their cuisine. Pasties? Baked. Pot pies? Baked. HusOtter's family turned that cuisine into a business, into the core of their lives.
Basically sucking the joy out of the aromas and chocolate chips that flowed freely within their grasp.
So for him to teach me to cook is like asking him how breathing came so easily for him. He constantly guffaws and ruminates on how he can knife me in the back, finish his sandwich and leave to go see what else is on YouTube.
Every year, Disney World has the Food and Wine Festival. And every year they have expensive classes. This is probably not the best venue, because having the famous cooks could mean that I'll start to focus on the final product instead of the process.
But local classes are far and few between. But something. Something simple.
Like boiling water.
MARTIAL ARTS:
One of the better choices I made in my life was kickboxing. I took a few classes with a local gym that my friend of a friend of a friend owned. He wanted to start something more of a cardio class, with no contact, but he had no idea. I got to basically train with his kickboxing men and then, they would leave and he would have one on one training.
I was addicted. And in the best shape of my life. I could even do splits.
It was glorious. Then I got married. Then I broke a toe. Then I had stomach issues. And life happened.
I've tired to get back in, but no one does what this class did. I noticed a place down in south of county that does the boxing stuff, not necessarily the kickboxing stuff, without the contact but with the punching bags, the jump ropes, the yelling but massively hot coach and all that is inbetween. We just beat the shit out of one another.
But it is 45 minutes away. You should drive more than 15 minutes to exercise, otherwise you lose, what, two hours, two and from, from that location? Can't do that. Yeah, rounding up. And I'm bad at math.
That being the case, I'm opening up my eyes and ears. I know there's a Brazilian Jujitsu place but they emblazon their logos with crosses and make a point of saying on their website, "we don't justify those Eastern mysticism."
As a Taoist and a Buddhist, this bothers me. Of course, I could actually be offended, but it's more like they are trying to get wealthy white Christians into their doors.
What is interesting to me.
Kendo. I'd like to to learn that. I know, I know, I just talked about my purchasing habits and my lack of want for 'things' and, if there was a martial arts that is totally based on prop usage? There you go. Totally contradicting. But what have you. I contain multitudes.
But there's a concentration there I think I might enjoy. Of course, I won't know until I learn a bit more than what I read in books. But to focus, to the point of just three moves? That's something. It looks...facinating.
LOCKPICKING:
In my quest to find something for my ailing father to do, 'reweaving' was brought up. That's where a tear in a fabric is hand sewn back into one larger piece. My own Grandfather used to it when he couldn't get out of the house and still needed to make money. He loved it.
My father would hate that. But my buddy who I was talking with brought something he had discovered that was similar and I was beginning to look into it.
Lockpicking. This, too, involves props, and it's something like a super Swiss Army knife. And you basically, well, fidget with padlocks. And doorknobs. And deadbolts. There's tutorials, YouTube videos and the like.
Screw my Dad, but this is interesting.
(SELF) PUBLISHING:
Maybe it's fucking time.
PODCASTING/YouTubing:
This is more of my husOtter's urging. He noticed that I use YouTube for the short snippets, a gift that comes with no commercials due to my premium membership. He thinks that I could the same. My complaint? The market is saturated with what I can report. He thinks I just do a window recap of Disney Stuff with a queer perspective, but, honestly, I don't think that's in the cards. It's been done before.
So he usually points out that it might be a good idea, then, to turn in some kind of podcast-movie reviews that are under five minutes. That would mean, yes, dear, we'd have to spend money and see movies ALL THE TIME.
I kinda already do. But, since I once wrote for a newspaper, and would have to see a movie on Thursday night, drive to the press room computers, type, get everything to the night editor and the be published by five am on Friday morning...understand my lack of want.
I know I wouldn't have to THAT rushed. But the media I've noticed? Those are the ones that putting out stuff as frequently as possible. In order to do that, I'll have to push something aside. Let's say I'd have opening week. That means I'd have to the movie pronto-and then get something viable and edited...all done by me....within that first week to get it into rotation.
Then why add it to the list?
I'm not an idiot.
Okay.
I am an idiot, but not a huge one.
Okay, fuck that too.
No, but here's the thing. I need to work this one out. Cause, yeah, the husOtter does actually have something. My naysaying aside, I suppose I could do something, but, again, what viable? So it's under discussion.
And there. Something to ponder.
But what's not on this list? The esoterical stuff that goes without saying. Of course, of course, OF COURSE, I want to learn how to find peace with those who wish to do me harm for my mere existence. Of course, of course, OF COURSE, I want to learn how to be better to myself, my family, my community, and to society. But those learning curves are built on my ability to accept growth in my life and continue to expand my mind-instead of just sitting back and whining. I'm getting better, I like to think. In those departments, I'm not writing chunks. I like to think those lessons, while profound and vital, can only be elaborated on by a select few for whom language is much for viable.
I am not that person. For me, these truths? They're, truly, self-evident.
Peace, my friends. Never, ever stop learning!!!!
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