Metaphor

Near the end of A Wrinkle in Time, by Madeleine L'Engle, Mrs Whatsit tries to explain Free Will to Calvin and Meg.

She says (and I am editing for clarity) "In your language you have a form of poetry called a sonnet...It is a very strict form of poetry...There are fourteen lines, I believe, all in iambic pentameter. That's a very strict rhythm or metre...And each line has to end with a rigid rhyme pattern. And if the poet does not do it exactly this way, it is not a sonnet...But within this strict form the poet has complete freedom to say whatever he wants..."

"You're given the form, but you have to write the sonnet yourself."

I don't know that I agree that an entire Life is a Sonnet, but I do find many components of my life are sonnet-like.

Tango is one bit. There are certain ways to do the steps, but you can dance any pattern you like. There is something of a sonnet in my labyrinth walking habit.

There are other things, but they aren't coming to mind right now.

Way

I am water.
I move over and around obstacles.
Troubles pass through me like a stone in a pond.
Joy rests on my heart like a leaf on a stream.
I embrace the darkness.
I reflect the light.

Apology

In The Devil's Dictionary, Ambrose Bierce defined "apologize" thusly:

APOLOGIZE, v.i. To lay the foundation for a future offence.

But, then, he was very cynical.

I've been thinking about apologies since I got one that I found unacceptable about a month and a half ago. It seemed .... weak. Insincere. Nonchaloant, even.

"Sorry. Let's move on. This isn't important to me."

I'm not sure that is the truth of it, but it is how it felt. And that is what I responded to.

So, I've been thinking about that apology. And apologies in general. That if they aren't phrased correctly, they are useless.

Last night, I had dinner with a girlfriend. She said that she and her husband had recently realized that they had both been missing apologies. Each felt that s/he had apologized when s/he was in in error, but that the other never did. What they finally realized was that they use different language to apologize.

She would say "I'm sorry." and feel like it was done.
He would say "I messed up" and think he had fixed what was damaged.

But, she needed to hear regret. And he needed admission of culpability.

It is interesting to me how we need varying amounts of those 2 elements.

I seem to require a bit of both in order to feel that someone who has hurt me, in whatever way, is truly contrite.

An authentic life

au·then·tic (ô-thntk)
adj.
1. Conforming to fact and therefore worthy of trust, reliance, or belief: an authentic account by an eyewitness.
2. Having a claimed and verifiable origin or authorship; not counterfeit or copied: an authentic medieval sword.
3. Law Executed with due process: an authentic deed.
4. Music
a. Of, relating to, or being a medieval mode having a range from its final tone to the octave above it.
b. Of, relating to, or being a cadence with the dominant chord immediately preceding the tonic chord.
5. Obsolete Authoritative.

I think I don't like the word "authentic" when used to describe one's life. If you are living it, it is authentically yours. You own it and you are responsible for it.

Even if you don't want to be. Even if you want to blame your choices on your mother, or your FoO, or circumstnaces or fate. You are the one that makes the choices, for whatever reasons you have, and, then, is forced to live with the outcomes.

They are still your choices and your actions.

I prefer to use other adjectives to define my life. "Honest" and "happy".

I want to be honest with myself AND honest with those I encounter. And I want us all to be happy. When I hit hard parts is when honesty will cause unhappiness. I HATE those bits. Eventually, though, honesty wins out.

And I live with it.

Authentically. Conforming to fact and therefore worthy of trust, reliance, or belief.

Critters

I think that part of the reason that horror movies appeal to us is because no matter how awful our lives may be, we may have jobs that such, sweethearts that aren't sweet, family that drives us crazy, prayers gone unanswered or bodies that refuse to behave healthily. No matter how bad real life may be, zombies aren't trying to eat our brains. So, we come out exhilarated from the adrenalin and happy not to be slasher bait.