How To Disappear Completely

life slowly leaking into the internet

The organization battle continues, but the end is near. I wish organizing my closet were as easy as archiving my gmail. To have my stuff disappear into the void until I needed it would be quite heavenly. Of course, my stuff already disappears, but without the benefit of virtual spacelessness. So basically I deal with material bulk that is paradoxically not-there in the sense that I can access it in any meaningful way, but ever presently "there" in the sense that I trip over it.

And so my closet is Exhibit A for a discussion on Berkeley. You may begin when the instructor notifies you. Please use No. 2 pencils.

One of the benefits (?) of being home is that I can now enter into the latest passions of my family. My dad has embarked on a self-directed mission to become fluent in Spanish, and the latest tutorial revolves around the telenovela. Should I be embarrassed to admit that I have gotten hooked? We have an adopted grandmother at church who hails from Mexico and my dad was describing La Madrasta to her. "Oh! That is such a good one!" she exclaimed. And then proceeded to tell my dad how it ended, much to his dismay. I do have to say I have never seen so many family members whose exact relation is a mystery to me (except, of course, when a Mexican family of 17 individuals visited us one summer). I think I will have to draw a family tree. The confusing part is that in Season Two, the actors all switch roles (sort of like the role-playing game in For Your Consideration). Talk about versatility. So just when I figure out that Carlos is Rafino's son who is the step-brother of Servando who might be the father of Esteban, I will have to start afresh.

Anna leaves this morning for a wedding in Virginia. I get to take care of the horse while she is gone. I might even be up for a bit of bare-back riding. The horse foundered a while back and is just now back up to riding speed. (Foundering is basically overeating which in turn causes the hooves to go soft.) I did a little riding yesterday and can feel how little my riding muscles are used these days.

I got rather far on my skirt-making project yesterday until I realized I didn't have zippers. Despite my transition from the prairie girl look, I am still up for modesty, so I should probably put in a zipper. But I am going on errands today, so hopefully the project won't be sidelined for long. (You know you live in a rural area when "going to town" is a big deal.)

And finally, thanks to my super-hip aunt (who has original LPs of the Velvet Underground, by the way), I have a copy of What is the What. Reading the first few pages, which describe the robbery of this man's few possessions (and yet more than he had ever had before), makes me think more deeply about my own stuff. An inspiration to keep downsizing the clutter. But also to clear out the junk of cluttered opinions. I accumulate other people's evaluations of myself till the mess obscures reality. Who am I? I need to find this out. But then I remember that the quest for individuality and self-knowledge is an ideal that comes from my American surroundings. If God knows who I am, my individuality is assured: He can distinguish my being from the matter of the universe.

Lately I have been feeling incompetent. In some ways, I feel that I was more mature about 5 years ago, especially regarding spiritual matters. Or is maturity like a cluttered closet: the process of cleaning creates a bigger mess until finally the organization sets everything back into place?