Wild Mind: Living the Writer's Life - Natalie Goldberg

In two short pages, Natalie Goldberg has summed up a lot of my sentiments about life. I have always wanted to be a writer, but after four great years as an English major at UT, I'm seriously considering law as a practical career path. But I'm taking a year off after graduation before law school, probably stalling, to explore what the world has to offer.

I am not "into money." It's never really ever been about money for me, but I want to be comfortable. I don't ever want to "need" anything in life. I'm not talking about needing a Porsche or Armani suits; I'm talking about necessities like, food, rent, and clean clothes. I grew up in a lower middle class family, so I know what it means not to have the things I want. I'm O.K. wiht that.

So why do I want to go to law school, when I know I want to be in the arts? The anwer is: I'm scared. I look at that "dot" everyday; I listen to my "monkey-mind" more than I should. That is part of the reason why I'm taking this seminar class: responses to nature...writing about nature...being one with nature. I need to surround myself this last year with things that incite ny "wild mind." I'm sick of looking at that dot in the sky. I hope it's made with an erasable marker.

But even as I'm second-guessing law school, I'm preparing to go to an interview for a "real" job with a "real" company...tonight! I've been brought up with too much control. I NEED to be in control of my life and my decisions. I never experimented with drugs because I need to be in control. I refused to even consider getting drunk until my 21st birthday because I need to be in control. I study, study, study because I need to be in control. See a pattern? But I'm getting tired of it. DOn't worry, I'm not going to drop out of school and become a junkie/alcoholic, but I need to "lose control and let wild mind take over." Because, as Goldberg says, "it is the best way to write. To live, too."

Sycamore - Part 2

I tried really hard to pretend that I was a six year old encountering this gigantic sycamore, but you will notice the twenty-one years old resurfacing in my comments. I just can't shake the idea that trees are here, not only to look pretty, but also as our protector. Whoever invented the umbrella stole the idea from a tree. It is a scorcher today, but I can't even feel the sun; I can only see it poking its way through the leaves of the hovering sycamore leaves. It's so big and pretty. If I was six right now, I certainly would not be sitting here and writing about the tree. I would chase the squirrels in order to feed them, play hide-and-seek behind the tree, climb it, collect its leaves. Squirrels have very interesting tails. So fuzzy. I want to be that squirrel running among the fallen leaves and along the tree trunk. Yellow, green, darker green, parched, and crmbly the leaves are. The sun highlights it all. I wonder how the tree would look to me at night. What kind of feelings would come about under this tree, under the moon. A bird jsut flew onto the lowest branch. It's black - I wonder what kind it is. (I'm not a bird-watcher). Why did it choose this tree? There's a pigeon on the ground in front of me. Does it like the tree too? Did they come to this tree for the same reason we did? To observe it? What are the animals' criteria for choosing a tree or field to play in? Aesthetics? Location? Convenience? I just saw a cobweb in the leaves. Why did the spider pick this tree instead of a musty corner of a house? Is it a Thoreau spider? Maybe it's because the tree is cheap rent.