I’ve been sitting at my desk for the last two hours trying to think of something to write. I’ve been walking around all day putting sentences together in my head, starting and stopping. I’m wondering what I have to say that I haven’t said before. I’m walking around the rec room that I use as an office, noticing the objects that I take for granted as my surroundings.
Bookcases full of texts. Some I’ve read closely in order to glean insights that guide a lot of my thinking today. Some I barely glanced through to try to keep up with my assignments for a particular class.
A tower of CDs that I ignore because the songs I want to hear are all in my iTunes library. But the tower in still here in case of emergency.
A poster of R.E.M. from around 1991/1992 that has hung on the wall of every place I’ve lived in since then.
Office supplies and teaching resources that I will sort out “one of these days.”
Bills and financial records that track the growth of my responsibilities and exaggerations.
Crafts that my daughter made next to a small wooden box that my great-grandmother gave me when I was younger than I can remember.
Comics, novels, toys, games, movie posters . . . doorways into fantasy worlds that inspire my imagination but can also be a tempting refuge from reality.
I looked closely at all of these things as I walked around the room, tried to take stock of what they represented and how they formed part of the journey that’s brought me to now.
I spent a lot of this summer trying to organize all of this stuff. I made progress. I will make more.
And as I do, I hope I also find the resolve to clear the clutter in my mind enough to have something to say and the confidence to say it.