Each Wednesday I’m recording a Curiosity Journal to recap the past week. Tag words are: reading, playing, learning, reacting and writing.
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Some of you have mentioned that you’re keeping a Curiosity Journal, as well. If you do, leave your link in the comments so that we can visit and enjoy your weekly review.
Reading
Several years ago, a friend of mine and I were browsing shelves at a used bookstore, and I reached up to pull down Staying Put
. That title, Staying Put: Making a Home in a Restless World, represented a kind of resignation; I grabbed it knowing I needed to accept my fate, though my heart crumpled into a little wad as I placed the book in my bag and brought it home.Having lived my entire life in the same state, I’ve always wondered what it would be like to pack up my books and my clothes and shed a lot of my clutter in order to try a different state—even a different country. I married this Belgian-born guy and always thought I might get a chance to live overseas; alas, I’m still here, staying put.I figured Sanders might convince me to bloom where I’m planted, or at least refuse to wilt.In his chapter entitled “Settling Down,” he describes an afternoon when he and some friends opted to stay on the porch as a storm blew in:
Above the trees and rooftops, the murky southern sky crackled with lightning. Now and again we heard the pop of a transformer as a bolt struck the power lines in our neighborhood. The pulses of thunder came faster and faster, until they merged into a continuous roar.We gave up on talking. The four of us, all Midwesterners teethed on thunderstorms, sat down there on the porch to our meal of lentil soup, cheddar cheese, bread warm from the oven, sliced apples and strawberries…In the time it took for butter to melt on a slice of bread, the wind fell away, the elm stopped thrashing, the lightning let up, and the thunder ceased…We gazed at one another over the steady candle flames and knew without exchanging a word what this eerie lull could mean. (97-98)
They debated about heading to the basement when the civil defense sirens wailed, warning residents to take cover. Sanders and his wife and friends ended up staying. He reports on the rushing of wind, his physical reaction, his momentary sensation that he was riding the wind even though they simply sat there in the candlelight.The tornado missed them by half a mile.He goes on to describe the Millers, a family from his youth who suffered from three tornadoes tearing apart their home, yet they refused to budge. They rebuilt each time.
Psychologists tell us that we answer trouble with one of two impulses, either fight or flight. I believe that the Millers’ response to tornadoes and my own keen expectancy on the porch arose from a third instinct, that of staying put…These tornado memories dramatize a choice we are faced with constantly: whether to go or stay, whether to move to a situation that is safer, richer, easier, more attractive, or to stick where we are and make what we can of it. If the shine goes off our marriage, our house, our car, do we trade it for a new one? If the fertility leaches out of our soil, the creativity out of our job, the money out of our pocket, do we start over somewhere else? (101-102)
Sanders acknowledges that mankind exhibits nomadic tendencies, citing early man crossing the land bridge to North America, explorers and the like. The United States formed because of those pilgrims and immigrants who ventured from the Old Country to the New, and frontiersmen and prospectors who explored and headed out to test the possibilities of new places.But, he wonders, what about those who choose to attend to a given place?He writes:
To become intimate with your home region, to know the territory as well as you can, to understand your life as woven into the local life does not prevent you from recognizing and honoring the diversity of other places, cultures, ways. On the contrary, how can you value other places if you do not have one of your own? (114)
Toward the end of the chapter, after he discusses ecology and the need to preserve our place, Sanders recreates a scene from King Lear, when blind and wretched old Gloucester begs his son, Edgar, to lead him to the edge of a cliff so that he can leap to his death. Edgar tricks the old man into thinking they are at the brink of a bluff at the edge of the sea:
Gloucester kneels, then tumbles forward onto the level ground; on landing, he is amazed to find himself alive. He is transformed by the fall. Blind, at last he is able to see his life clearly; despairing, he discovers hope. To be enlightened, he did not have to leap to someplace else; he only had to come hard against the ground where he already stood. (118)
I am still here, living on the hard Midwestern ground I’ve always known. Many times I dream of leaping someplace else—not to my death; rather, I think of a move as a potential rebirth to a new, warmer climate, perhaps, closer to the sea. It’s probably nothing more than wanderlust based on the reckless notion that the grass is greener on the southern side of the country.Staying put is probably the thing to do, but I do so long to sit in the sunshine somewhere…to walk barefoot on warmed sand…to eat fresh seafood and snap pictures of blooming flowers and green leaves.But for now, I’m here, same as always, trying to make what I can of it.
Playing
Decorating the tree really does feel a little like playing…
…although our eldest fell asleep in a chair. I don’t think she was bored; I think she was honestly exhausted.
I always have the honor of hanging the bronze-colored “Sputnik” ornament my mom let me have from my childhood.
One disappointment: discovering that a shiny pink globe that I loved was broken. I was too sad to photograph it.
Learning
Advent creates healthy pauses, slowing us, pulling us together for a few moments to pray and, however imperfectly, sing.
Reacting
At our homeschool co-op, I lingered late, chatting with a friend. One of our board members grows poinsettias to sell at her orchard store. She had extras after the store closed for the season, so she gave each family a poinsettia as a Christmas gift. As I wandered to the front of the church after my chat in order to claim my potted plant, she handed me two extras. “Take them,” she urged.”Really? Three?””Yes. Take them. I’m done with them. I don’t want to haul any back home.”Delighted, I asked the kids to carry them to the van, where we tucked them into the trunk area and wedged in our backpacks so they’d stay upright.Now I can give one to my friend Charity, and have two on display at my place.
A splash of color to brighten dreary winter days.
Writing
The “language arts department” of our homeschool co-op has been putting together recommendations for next year’s writing, literature, worldview and logic courses. I’ve volunteered to consolidate our discussions and create the proposal for the board. Lots of e-mails flying back and forth as we finalize the document.
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Credits:Photos: All images by Sophie Marie. Used with permission. All rights reserved.Sanders, Scott Russell. Staying Put: Making a Home in a Restless World. Boston: Beacon Press, 1993. Print. (Amazon Associates Link)
I really like pink pointsettias.
Eloquent words on staying put. More and more, that’s the brave choice for me.
I think the pinks are soooo pretty, but my third daughter loves the red, so it’s perfect to have both. And Charity got hers tonight.
I love poking around in used bookstores. Sounds like you found a treasure. I could almost feel the electricity in the air. When the Swede and I got married we figured we’d start out in Connecticut, then move back to Pennsylvania where we had family and friends. Over twenty-seven years later, here we remain. I get restless sometimes and imagine life being better or simpler somewhere else. I enjoyed the thoughts you shared from this book.
That Scott Russell Sanders is a great storyteller. I wish I’d had him as a professor–to this day I can’t figure out how I got all the way through four years of college as an English Major and never had him. He was one of the main instructors!
Your story about going to Connecticut somehow caused a funny story pop into my head–a friend of mine and her husband opened up a map of the US and looked at it together, circling places they thought they might like to someday live, at least for a while. They circled Colorado and some other western states. In fact, they circled many places and realized that they were open to lots of locations. But one spot they X’d out with big red marker: Florida. Never Florida.
You can guess where he got a job. Several years ago they had to move to the Ft. Lauderdale area, their most detested spot on the map. And while they never grew to love the place all that much (the kids liked having a pool), they made several lifelong friends. Then, they moved to their top spot: Colorado.
All the while my friend was in Florida and then moving to Colorado, I was…staying put. 🙂
Can I just tell you how much I enjoy reading these journal entries? They have given me a window into your mind, just a little bit, and I so like what I find there. Except for two years early in our marriage (when we lived in Zambia – which I wrote a little about in my very first contact with you and Charity and THC about 10 months ago, I think), we have always lived in southern CA. When we lived in the San Gabriel Valley, we would dreamily talk about living near the coast, out of the heat and smog – and then we moved here. And we have indeed loved it. But we stayed put a long time in each area – 22 years in the Pasadena area and now 15 years here in Santa Barbara. I do believe in staying put, actually. I think we are from and of a place. Some of us move to other parts of the country or the world – and we carry our place with us. Some of us choose to cut and run. And some of us do our best to fully inhabit the place in which we find ourselves. I guess I want to be in that last group. I think maybe you do, too.
Can I tell you how much I enjoy reading your comments? 🙂
Zambia. Wow.
My father-in-law is in Congo (DRC) at this very moment, but his lengthy visit will draw to a close in the next few weeks, when he’ll fly back to Belgium. He loves Africa. That’s his place.
My sister-in-law lived in Pasadena and then Altadena (and she did her undergrad at Westmont in Santa Barbara, and for grad school, Claremont). I’ve briefly visited her in all those places–*your* places!
Ann, I’d never heard of Scott Russell Sanders until last week, and here he is again. If I hear another mention of him, I’m going to take it as a signpost for my next book =)
I love those pink poinsettias. I’m going to have to get one when we go to the nursery to see the camel and the reindeer next week.
Kimberlee, I’ve met Scott once and been at some events where he has presented or moderated, and he is a gem. Such a great guy. His writing reflects kind of a Wendell Berry philosophy of caring for the earth and you would see some liberal political slants coming through. I like his work best when he sticks with the powerful storytelling, the poetic ways of wording things. When he starts to get a little “preachy,” it loses its punch. It’s strongest when he lets the concrete, specific, poignant details do the talking. Anyway, just wanted to warn you, in case your own political bent would find the strongly liberal perspective frustrating.
I’ve cut and run too many times in my life.
We have a neighbor who has lived here on our little street all his life—55 years, maybe? This is a good place for staying put.
But then, I think the other places would have been good, too, if I’d been willing.
People who move to the area where I live always say the same thing: “It’s a great place to raise a family.” I’ve never heard anyone say, “It’s such a gorgeous setting,” or “It’s such a fun and creative area where artists can find inspiration” or “I just love the topography.” It’s pretty bland in most respects, but…at least I know it’s probably good for my family.
Although…what do they mean by that? Is it a great place to raise a family because of low crime rates? Because of extremely conservative values? Because of the sports subculture so kids can be on teams?
Not sure what they mean. I’ll need to ask more follow-up questions next time someone says that.
I have a few more pages of a fiction book written by a blogger friend. While waiting at the Dr office for my husbands appointment is usually when I read it. Staying put at least for a few years is what we usually do when we find it necessary to move. For now, we are in our Northern CA woods in our modular home. My husband decorated our front with lights in the shape of trees, plus a wreath and snowman with lights. You my dear are a giver. To share with Charity was so sweet and yet you were blessed too.