Book List

I'm going to read as many of these books as I can: http://www.stumbleupon.com/su/2QuCDt/en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_100_Best_Books_of_All_Time

It's not that I'm all the time lonely because I'm not. There are just fleeting moments. Flashes of longing that come and go but leave a trace of ache and tenderness that I wish would go away. But I don't know that I'm so tough. And I don't know that I really want to be--it's that fully felt emotional tendency I have that makes me feel all the more human, deeply impressed by the poignancy of what it means to be human: to love and hurt and be hurt and love again and live and die within the perimeters of such a temporary existence.

Now that the first year of this master's program is up, it's becoming easier to breathe again and feel more like myself. That also means I have more time to think for myself, which could, if unchecked, lead to dangerous ruminations of memory. And I don't want that. So, with all of my intention and will and optimism, I will read, ponder, peruse, enjoy, cherish and revel in the time I have for whatever I want to do with my sparse schedule. Here's the top ten (in no particular order):

1. Flea markets/thrifting/vintage shop road trips
2. Reading "the best books of all time"
3. Drinking beer on the deck
4. Cookouts and potlucks
5. Yoga
6. Long morning walks with Georgia
7. Long bike rides
8. Coffee and the paper or crafts or letter-writing
9. Shows
10. Visiting the people I love

I'm so grateful for the support of those people in #10. The crafts and letters and treasures will be for them. I just love a healthy dose of altruism and summer feelgood vibes.

Kahlil Gibran

You were born to be together, and together you shall be forevermore.
You shall be together when the wings of death scatter your days.
Ay, you shall be together even in your silent memory.
But let there be spaces in your togetherness,
And let the winds of the heaven dance between you.
Love one another, but make not a bondage of love.
Let it rather be a moving sea between the shores of your souls.
Fill each other's cup, but drink not from one cup.
Give one another of your bread, but eat not of the same loaf.
Sing and dance together and be joyous, but let each of you be alone,
Even as the strings of a lute are alone, though they quiver with the same music.
Give your hearts, but not into each other's keeping,
For only the hand of life can contain your hearts.
And stand together, yet not too near together,
For the pillars of the temple stand apart,
And the oak tree and the cypress grow not in shadow.