permission to land

In my recent bout of identity crisis, I decided to give myself permission to do more than pine after scholarly pursuits.  I've done little but pine since I curtailed my academic career and graduated with a BA but without completing my emphasis or my minor a few months after marrying Mr Renn.  (In order to work full time and secure income and health benefits, a decision based on fear that I think we both regret a bit - most decisions based on fear end that way).

But, with no obvious way to fund this self-granted permission, I was running in circles for a bit.

Luckily I was given the inside scoop on the Weekly Reading Seminars hosted by BYU's English Department.  Free and open to the public.  It still scared me to death to begin attending.  Motherhood has done little for my confidence around adults, and has certainly shrunk my comfort zone.  But with a godsend of a babysitting swap in place, I ordered an embarassing amount of used books on Amazon (because nothing I needed was available at my city library), and determined to attend these seminars prepared to have intelligent conversations with world-class writers.  The likelihood of me opening my mouth is not great here at the beginning of this endeavor.  But I'm being exposed to some phenomenal paradigm altering writing, and then having the chance to hear and meet the humans behind it.  It makes me all tingly to think of it.



I have hopes that if I take this pursuit seriously that I can, over time, meet some people and make some friends and get some guidance on returning to school, on some very slow and steady, family-centric terms.   Because while learning blazing white truths is and should be the most important angle of this or any other interest, having more concrete goals always seems to keep me motivated in a more impressive manner.  And, truth be told, a doctorate is on my bucket list.  I don't need it right away, but feeling like I am ever so slowly working toward it and acknowledging it as a real goal feels just about right.  And for now, you can't beat free momentum.

The highlight so far has been the indescribable joy of being in a room with Brian Doyle.  There's an energy and love emanating from the man with more brilliance than the Sun.  I can't help suspecting, based on what I've read and heard, that his particular energy could be pegged as the Spirit of Elijah.  He's got it, I'm telling you.  And he gets it.  Everything he creates is informed by the idea that family relationships create the vast majority of meaning in life.  He gets love and the value of the prosaic and what really matters and why.  And he cries in public.  Such a human full of life and truth and love and words.

I shall certainly be improved by this venture, as a mom, a wife and a human being.