(Written on April 30, 2009)
I am here at Starbucks with my brother, during one of those rare brother-sister dates that used to be quite frequent when I still controlled my schedule. He is reading one of those glossy high-society magazines where the cover subjects have more attractive clothes than smiles (and I’m being kind), and where they are chosen not necessarily for their value as human-interest subjects, but for their standing in society.
I, on the other hand, up until a few minutes ago, had been reading flow, a magazine I had been curious about but only got to browse just today. I was pleasantly surprised to find the name of interior designer Miguel Rosales (with whom I had collaborated briefly when I was still writing “Living” features for MEGA) as editor of the magazine, and famed furniture designer Kenneth Cobonpue as its curator. It’s a magazine that, despite the absence of faces and names on the cover, is much more interesting to me because it’s filled with art, design, and beautiful things that make life much prettier than it is sometimes.
And as I was browsing the pages of flow and appreciating the photography, the layout, and the writing, I silently declared to myself: I MISS WRITING.
More specifically, I miss writing about art, interiors, design, and all the beautiful thing that make life much more interesting than it is sometimes.
I miss going to exhibit openings and galleries and talking to artists about their work. I miss looking at art pieces and being lost in their colors and textures. I miss thinking about the complexities of creation and how much love, passion, and patience it takes for a piece of work to be considered finished (and, sometimes, as artists will tell us, it never really is.) And I miss having the time to process all these and put them on paper (or screen).
I miss talking to people, not always about politics or changemaking or what makes the world a sicker/better place, but about what makes THEM tick, what makes THEIR lives interesting, what makes THEIR worlds go ‘round—politics or changemaking aside. I miss just reveling in the “beingness” of things and people, regardless of their social status, political affinity, or profession. I miss the challenge of turning subjects into friends, of connecting with people JUST BECAUSE.
And again, I miss having the time to process all these conversations and interactions and turn them into my own works of art.
I miss coming home at the end of the day with enough time to sit down, think, and process the events of my past 24 or so hours, to share my thoughts and reflections with anyone who would care to read them. I miss blogging about the adventures and misadventures I share with Paul (which I used to blog about regularly in my first blog A Spoonful of Sugar). I miss blogging about the out-of-the-universe things I discover and read about (which are the subjects of my entries in my blog Out of the Universe). I miss having the time to research on blogging and social media and share them here in Long Live Blogging. And I miss having the time to read and process my Daily Oms and share the inner workings of my soul in my blog Soul Work.
Most of all, I miss reading. I miss feeding my brain with all the great food that nourishes and stimulates it.
Undoubtedly, my job is filled with intellectual stimulation and challenges, and I wake up every day thankful for the opportunity to serve our country and our people through my work. But I miss those quiet moments when I can just be, when I can just let my mind float, when I can let my thoughts fill a page or a screen, and when I can connect with people like you through my words.
Help me pray for more time and energy so that I can continue to do the ONE THING that means the most to me.