Greetings, KuKd Strong Mommas and Inquisitive Guests!
Rain is coming down in big, gray droplets, and my throat is a tiny bit sore. I'm still in my fluorescent-lit office at 5:10pm, which, as those of you in academia know, is WAY too late to be at work. I ought to be home now, lounging around in K's prison-issued* sweats, which are big and baggy and comfy. And something about the fact that they're prison-issued makes them feel especially interesting.
* For of you who don't know, K teaches adult basic skills at a prison. A real prison, where prisoners live. Real prisoners, the kind who do bad things and therefore end up in prison. They also do crazy things, those prisoners. One of those very prisoners cut his penis off with a razor blade last week; it even made the local news. I tell K he should be thankful to work in a place where such riveting thing happen.
Anyway, I'm thinking of blighted ovums, Krispy Kreme donuts, tall lattes, and Kate Winslet in no particular order. I really should be grading papers or running out to catch my bus home. But the thought of going out into that cold, rain-droppy darkness is sooooo not appealing...
Does anyone else think about time in the shape of a tunnel? When you think about the past and the future, what do you see? I remember my linguistics professor explaining that there are people who think about time - whole years or days or stretches of time - in a pictoral sense, and people who don't. I'm one of the ones that do. There is a word for people like us; I forget what it is. It has to do with being this-brained or that-brained.
What I see when I think about time is a tunnel going in either direction before me and behind me, super-wide right in front of me, and getting narrow in the distance, divided into colored sections that mark either seasons or certain time periods in my life. The colors don't really match typical season-like colors, like gray-ish silver for winter or orange-red for fall. They're more like the colors I associate with what I was feeling during that particular time period.
The past two years of my past-time tunnel are filled with flecks of blue-gray and black. Those colors mark the first time in my life of loving, losing, learning. I know; doesn't that sound so Hallmark greeting card Midwestern? Loving, losing, learning. But that's really what it was. When you get pregnant, you love. When you lose it, you lose. And then you learn: holy shit, this is what real love feels like, and what it feels to lose something or someone. I had never lost anyone or anything before that time, not really.
But it's not all blue and black flecks. There are some warm reds and oranges swirled in, happy and satisfying times, changes in my work and personal life that took place and have been ultimately positive forces in my life. It's just that the colors in this section of tunnel seem more...grown up some how. Aged a little, swirled with wrinkles. Kind of Ralph Lauren's line of autumn paints.
The 4-5 year stretch before THAT - if I look waaaayyyy back down that tunnel into the past - is lit up in rainbow colored sections, like some kind of candy land. Just lights and carefree joys all around - lots of happy trips and sex and parties and booze. Invincibility.
The thing is, I can never tell what the color of my tunnel of time is in the place where I'm actually standing. I mean, I can look ahead and look back, but I just can't seem to ever place where I am. What I can say now, though, is that I'm in a light place - comfortable and happy colors - feeling strong and good and generally okay with my life. I feel as though I've emerged from the blue-gray flecked section of tunnel and landed somewhere else - I'm just not sure where that "else" is exactly.
By the way, I've asked K about how he thinks of time, and he basically pictures words on flat, white planes. Logical: like "this is summer. That was 1995. Those were the Peace Corps days." Isn't that weird? Totally different views of time. His is probably more logical than mine.
Not surprising, for lately it's become apparent that my favorite males on earth are the logical kind who only say what needs to be said.
Okay, out into the rain...