well, this looks like it will be another busy day of packing. I’m making some progress. I woke up early, because I was excited.<\/p>\n
Of course, the first thing I do every morning is check my email. Since I was already sitting at my desk, I started my packing by trying to clean off my desk. The detritus of my last year of college had piled up alarmingly.<\/p>\n
But as I was searching through which things to keep and which to throw away, I found some scraps of musings. I surprise myself sometimes by writing down really great interesting stuff, stuff that is mysterious and possibly profound. I find that when I read it later, the meaning is somewhat opaque, as if it were written by another person entirely. I don’t know what the author was thinking when she wrote it. And the author was me!<\/p>\n
Here is a little scrap. Maybe I’ll post some more of this type of thing, if I run across them again.<\/p>\n
Notes from a scrap of paper, probably from 2001, fall<\/p>\n
I have fought so hard to learn what I know. I fought hard, but at the point when I actually learned what I know I had, for that moment, stopped fighting.
\nI don’t know all of what I know yet. But when people ask me questions I know the answers to, I am often embarrassed. The answers are rushing out my mouth; I want to share the joy of finding the answer with someone else. But I wonder if the person asking really wants to know the answer. If he wanted to know it is obviously there [waiting to be found out]. But if he only wants affirmation that the answer is unknowable, my giving an answer will anger him.<\/p>\n
Sometimes, I only shrug.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
well, this looks like it will be another busy day of packing. I’m making some progress. I woke up early, because I was excited. Of course, the first thing I do every morning is check my email. Since I was … Continue reading