She talks to herself. Her self.

"Across the broad continent of a woman's life falls the shadow of a sword." ~Virginia Woolf

I'm reading Eat Pray Love right now. Rather slowly, for some reason, but reading it. I find myself reading books over longer periods of time than I used to. I choose them carefully and let them seep in. I know one can feel saturated by a subject when they dive into it intensely, allowing it to consume a good deal of their time. i do that at times. But recently ive been slow and steady, one refection at a time, one chapter or so at a time, sitting on it, relating...and this is not necessarily such a thought provoking or rather, thought demanding book, I should say. But I'm marking pages.

Gilbert quoting Woolf was one of them...She explains that on one side of the sword "lies convention and tradition and order, where 'all is correct'. But on the other side of that sword, if you're crazy enough to cross it and choose a life that does not follow convention, 'all is confusion. Nothing follows a regular course.'" I think this too goes for men, with some differences of course, taking the influence of history into account, but we will leave gender out of this, Woolf...

I accept a life on the other side of the sword. At times I convince myself that I could be content on the side where 'all is correct' but I eventually feel out of sync with myself and malnourished. I would only despise all that held me in those conventions. The side of the sword where 'all is confusion' is, well, confusing. Much is uncertain, meaning in life is less clear, timelines are less defined, people don't quite know what role to place you in. I often attend dinner parties with 50 year old couples and we all really enjoy each other’s company. It can be odd at holidays to be around married cousins and have less in common with them than with my 14 year old 'nephew.' when others don't quite know how to define us, we can find it a challenge as well.

Gilbert writes: To create a family with a spouse is one of the most fundamental ways a person can find continuity and meaning in American (or any) society...first you are a teenager, then you are a young married person, then you are a parent, then you are retired, then you are a grandparent-at every stage you know who you are, you know what your duty is and you know where to sit at (a family) reunion...at last you are sitting with the ninety-year-olds in the shade watching over your progeny with satisfaction...the satisfaction of this knowledge is immediate, and moreover it's universally recognized. How many people have I heard claim their children as the greatest accomplishment and comfort of their lives? It's the thing they can always lean on during a metaphysical crisis, or a moment of doubt about their relevancy--If I have done nothing else in this life, then at least I have raised my children well. But what if, either by choice or by reluctant necessity, you end up not participating in this comforting cycle of family and continuity?...Where do you sit at the reunion? How do you mark time's passage without the fear that you've just frittered away your time on earth without being relevant? You'll need to find another purpose, another measure by which to judge whether or not you have been a successful human being...I'm lucky that at least I have my writing. This is something people can understand. Ah, she left her marriage in order to preserve her art.

I want to experience the world. Can that be my continuity: the incontinuity of seeing, feeling, trying it all? It's a confusing side of the sword, but challenge never scared me... :)

I want to experience having kids. Well, a singular kid, maybe, but yes, offspring. I don't think it is entirely selfish. I make choices now that effect my life later keeping the possibility of having a kid, whether as a single parent or as a partner, in mind. I think as I professor, I could raise a child on my own. I'm not sure if I will have this profession in the near future, but I'm definitely going to set myself up to be able to be one later.

Anyway, I really, really like seeing only to myself, besides for the rat, or course. I really, really like it. And I accept this lack of convention. Wholeheartedly.