Ordinary

I read a review of an author the other day that criticized him for stating what is obvious. But personally, I don't see that as a problem. It seems to me that acknowledging what is usually just assumed is rather valuable, akin to noticing the ordinary. What is obvious to one person is not so to others (I generally find the term "obvious" quite insulting), and mentioning what is basic ensures that everyone is on the same page. Because we are surrounded by small, commonplace factors so often, we begin to take them for granted as we look past them for what is novel. They become hard to notice and identify; they blend into the background. This is a shame. Our small, ordinary habits create the fabric and substance of our lives, and articulating these matters helps us to see our lives more clearly. I want that to be an aspect of my blog: not merely sharing news and thoughts, but illustrating the ordinary. (Unfortunately, those are often the posts I forget to write because there is nothing pressing about them.)

Critique: I intermingle a discussion here about two related but separate matters: stating the obvious and noticing the ordinary. One is a matter of public expression, the other one of personal attentiveness. When I read of one I thought of the other, and they are two boards in the same treehouse, but they can't be used interchangeably.
That's the thing about writing: it has a will of its own, and although I can shape it, it offers some resistance. Sentences progressively lead from one emphasis to another before I've finished my thoughts, while some things just don't seem to fit anywhere.

Choosing a Book

It's a delightful feeling, choosing a new book to read after finishing a previous one. I never plan my reading list in advance because I would find it oppressive and get demotivated. As a result, I am often faced with the pleasant choice of what to read now.

Do I want to read something easy, or challenging? Something new, or something I read once long ago, or maybe an old favorite I've read over and over. Should I continue with a series or take a break? Continue in the same genre or mood, or go for something completely different? Which books have I received as gifts and should thus read promptly so as to not offend the giver?

I put all these questions in the Magic Book Chooser Machine, pull the lever, and my hand reaches for Gourmet Rhapsody by Muriel Barbery.

Reciprocal

Life is a give and take. We aspire to be unselfish, but I can't give unless someone else is willing to take my gift. Similarily, by receiving something graciously, I am allowing the other person the opportunity to give, which is a gift in itself. Generosity requires a recipient, and receiving is as important as giving.

I hate it when I offer someone something ("Can I pick you up anything at Starbucks?") and they decline. I really want to be nice! But I can't if they won't let me. So I try to say yes when someone offers me something. If they didn't want me to accept, they wouldn't offer.

My friendships should be a place where my friends feel cared for and have an opportunity to express their interests, thoughts and feelings - and also a place where they have the opportunity to extend those things to me.

The necessity of both: "Which is more important, breathing in or breathing out?"

Happy New Year!

Goals for 2010:
- read Anne of Green Gables
- read The Lord of the Rings
- change the pictures in the frames in the hall-square
- write Christmas thank you cards
- write five letters
- publish the first year of my blog
- clean out the fridge and cupboards
- cook 12 recipes out of one cookbook, possibly Company's Coming's Table for Two