Writing report

Scene snippet between Solveig and Agnes, discussing the accident where Solveig's father fell through the ice and died. 330 words.

Must dash to work.
P.

Office shrines

In my endless quest to find things to fill the office newsletter, I hit upon the idea of going around and taking pictures of people's office shrines. Once I began thinking about it, I realized that many people, maybe even most, have something personal on their desk or somewhere in their workspace, like a bookshelf or window ledge. Some are obvious, like pictures of kids or examples of their art work. Others are mysteriously whimsical. On a quick tour around the office, I found: a Hawaiian hula doll, ceramic Tobasco sauce bottles, various action figures, a stuffed Pillsbury doughboy, two statuettes of cheerfully Rubenesque bathing beauties, with bathing caps and 50s swim suits, poised to take a dive, a grinning plastic frog with a straw hat, a carved wooden giraffe, etc., etc.

We're going to take photos of all these various tchotchkes, make a photo collage and invite people to match each picture with the various people around the office.

What weird thing do you have as part of an office/desk shrine?
Mine consists of Sam and Frodo action figures. I also have a little fairy my daughter made out of cloth flowers and embroidery silk, draped over the frame of the baby pictures of my girls.

Cheers,
Peg

Life List

A number of thoughts have been coming together lately on the idea of making a life list. One was this recent LiveJournal entry, where I talked about how my greatest character flaw, perhaps unrecognized until just lately, has been a reluctance to take risks, to stretch myself. A number of other things have come up that I have been reflecting upon as I've been brooding upon this:

1) My admiration of my parents, whom I've mentioned before are always learning anew. My Dad, for example, is learning Russian, and how to play the guitar at age 74. I contrast my parents' behavior with another person I know in his 70s who has really diminished as he grows older, because he does less and less--not because he is physically incapable, but because he is content with thinking and doing little.
2) Reading the book Prince Ombra years ago and being very struck by its depiction of evil as a withdrawing of self from life, of a withering of ambition into bitterness and smallness.
3) my decision to seize the day and change my hours at work so that I can devote more time to this book, and how that feels like such a big deal
4) the Ash Wednesday service tonight, where the ashes are used to mark the forehead, and the pastor says, "You come from dust, and to dust you shall return." Our life on earth is limited. Most people fail to really keep that in mind.
5)Buying that book recently List Your Self: Listmaking As the Way to Self-Discovery
6) hearing a program on This American Life on NPR this week on Superpowers. One part of the story was really striking. It told the story of a woman who, early in life, decided that she wanted to become, as much as she could, a superhero, and she made a list at the age of 13 and devoted her life to mastering things on the list. Click on this link (you'll need RealPlayer), and listen to the story about Zora, which starts 20 minutes into the hour-long program. One bit of the commentary really struck me:

Narrator: When you're a kid, you have these romantic visions of what you'll be when you grow up. But how many people are so diligent that they commit their dreams to paper and make it their life's work to achieve them? How many keep a list, amending it, adding to it, ticking things off as they go along, well into their adult lives?

I've been thinking about that comment all week. It reminded me of the story of John Goddard, another person who has had a remarkable life because he decided, again pretty early in life (he was 15) to make a life list and devote himself to mastering it.

( Consider this discussion of what an accomplished lady is from Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice )

( Then there's Heinlein's list: )

What if I kept a life list? A couple of points strike me:
1. What would be my organizing principle? Zora's was that she wanted to be a superhero; Goddard was that he wanted to be a great explorer. Heinlein's list, I guess, was what he thought a person needed to master to be a complete human being. What do I want the overarching drive of my life to be? Becoming self-actualized? Fully human? Doing whatever work God has put me on this earth to do? Need to think about this, as it will affect what I put on the list.

2. If I'm really serious about doing this, it means that if I put something on the list, I mean to be really determined about wanting to do it. Some considerations: I am, perhaps, a bit more limited because I am starting later in life than Zora and John Goddard did, and some things you just can't do in life if you start too late (I'm too old, physically, for example, to become a master gymnast). And some things I might think would be cool, theoretically, but I don't really want to do them, and so there is no reason to put them down. Fly an airplane, or win an Olympic medal comes to mind.

But if I really mean to do this, and address anything I might put down really seriously, then who knows? I might really re-shape drastically the direction of my life.

( Life List - first draft )

Suggestions for the list? What's on your list?

Peg