"If you want to love God in truth, you must show it gladly, adoringly letting yourself be totally shatted by God."

I’ve been too much in my head these days and too little in the world. I marvel that this world is a physical construct and not some perceived reality, understood and categorized by the intellect and yet – I live within myself. Someone once wrote that the self is a world unto itself. Star Trek proclaimed that space was the final frontier. Others have argued that there are so many unexplored phenomenons on this world, why should we go looking outside of it. But do we truly understand ourselves. “Know thyself!” I spend too much time inside and not enough time outside but do I know myself any better than anyone else. The sad truth of the matter is the answer is “no.”

I can’t believe Christmas is at the end of the week. My parents kept telling me it would feel less like Christmas each year, until I have kids of my own again and that’ll last until they are old enough to have it not feel like Christmas. I work Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. That is nothing new. I’ve done it before. And it certainly isn’t the reason this year doesn’t feel like Christmas. Something is missing. Two years ago it felt like Christmas. It wasn’t Lauren. It was having someone in my life to share that moment, to see things anew (even if she wasn’t here in person). I joked with my parents last spring that we should celebrate Christmas in Boston. I’m not there so things didn’t quite work out, but I still dream of it or next year. Christmas 2005 in Boston. It would be new and different. It’s not that I dislike tradition, because I love tradition, but there are so many things with the family right now that seem to really interfere with the spirit of Christmas.

Even as I write those words it sounds kind of “hokey” and not incredibly original. I was skimming though The Pocket Muse and it suggested I true writing about a sappy event (ie-Christmas) but without using traditional or familiar clichés (ie-chestnuts). I so want to write. All I’ve been thinking about this weekend is writing. Everywhere I go something writing related comes up and then I sit in front of my laptop and draw a blank. I don’t know where to begin. I’m scared. Terrified. I’m a planner and starting something like this without a clear idea of where I’m going… well, it is not something I want to try but sometime I’m going to have to just do it. I guess I just want to write it and be done with it because I know how excruciating the editing process it. I wrote something years ago and spent 4 years, off-and-on, editing the work and in the end I decided I need to start from scratch. So much of my life went into that story and naught has come of it but a headache and something off a learning experience. Kierkegaard has been on my mind lately and I am somewhat immersing myself in his writings. I’m working my way through Fear and Trembling and a collection of his writings, mostly excerpts and aphorisms. All because I want to write a comic book inspired by his interpretation of the Akeda. A comic book, of all mediums! I sat in church yesterday and spent most of the sermon brainstorming. Worship can be so many things, but a place to brainstorm about a story not even related at all to the sermon preached? Granted, I was thinking about faith, but still. SK talks about three stages in life: aesthetic, ethical and religious. It scares me to think I am trapped in the ethical stage, never able to make that leap across the Nietzschean abyss to the religious. Or perhaps it is the Kazantzakian abyss. Is there a difference?

I couldn’t quite explain why, but I hated being at work today and the littlest things annoyed me. I was upset w/ a fellow supervisor for the smallest slights, and he wasn’t even there to defend himself. The sometime jerk that I share my cubicle with said several things that made me want to throttle him a couple times. And I’m not a violent man. I know Mel, I should leave this job. I was sitting around this afternoon (Les called it a part-time job and he is so right so why do I stress so) and I realized I wanted a little project. It is good for me to have a little project to work on, something to engage my mind. And so I created something for myself. I complain about the difficulties, but in actuality I crave this because it is only then when I am fully engaged in this job and it comes close to fulfillment. I was watching Before Sunset tonight. Not a great movie but something is so intriguing about the story and the simplicity and honesty of it. And there was so much about romanticism and love that resonated with me.

I want to create my own holiday traditions. I want to experience Christmas anew. And for some reason it is locked in my head that the only way to do that is through a relationship with someone else. But that is nowhere to be found. I’ve got to move to Boston. Or anywhere. If I don’t leave here by this time next year, I fear I’ll die a little inside. Kristine, I managed to get out of the house for 4 hours Saturday afternoon. I went to get a Secret Santa gift for work, wandered around B&N and Borders – and stopped at work for a while. When I returned home I felt so incredibly bored and alone. Books and movies failed to fully engage me. Stepford Wives was okay but not great. I, Robot was better than I hoped but still a little too actiony for an Asimov adaptation. Friday I saw Lemony Snicket’s with Brian and Molly. That was really, surprisingly good, but getting drinks afterwards I started to feel like a 3rd Wheel. Not there fault. Why do I feel like I need such a clean break with my current life? Is it the cowards way out to seek something new rather than stick around and fix the old? Wow, what strange imagery to use to describe family traditions. Luther didn’t want to leave the Catholic church, he wanted to reform it. Families are sometimes more intractable than religious institutions. Sometimes. How incredibly selfish this all sounds. If you don't want to keep reading this, I don't blame you in the least. Although thoughts to the contrary would be welcome.