Scribbler's Cafe: Time to wake up

Monday, January 08, 2007

Time to wake up

At the moment, Kiomye and I are dining at the florist's café. There is running water, opera music played at a perfect level, and the overwhelming scent of flowers from the floral arrangement class taking place behind the paper screen. I love this place. I've had a crush on the waiter forever. He takes Kio by her hand and leads her around the shop. She always leaves with a pink rose or two tucked into her pockets.

These have been quiet months for me. I feel as though I've withdrawn into hiding and reprise. I am looking to rest and heal. My heart has been so smashed these past two years that I just wanted to stop and be still for awhile. I haven't even been able to write my own words as much as I am too closed off for that kind of thinking and vulnerability.

My style of loving men has changed as well. I ponder commitment, but worry about yoking my raging ambitions to a calm and quiet man.

But then, raging ambitions don't seem to be much of a concern for me as of late.

This is what I do. I teach my classes with love and attention, but no great devotion or inspiration. I straighten my hair and pull on tall boots and go to the parties of all my marvelous friends. Kiomye and I spend afternoons in cafes or concrete bound animal sanctuaries. I read many good books. I am in bed by nine. I give very little thought to either my past or my future. I haven't even opened the novel files on my computer for three months.

For that I feel shame – and the horrible dread of eternal incompletion.

I have vague ideas about what I will do when I return to America (if I return), but none create sparks in me. I don't think I am lonely much, or even very lost. For a while, I think I am just less.

But ennui can not hold me for my lifetime. I have spent too much time in these doldrums. It's time to get out. Time to wake up.