Thursday, October 9, 2008

Three-Ring Mind

My mind has been a total circus lately. I woke up on Tuesday with a deep gash in my leg from my own thumbnail. It sent me into a spin: If I can't keep my own nails trimmed, I thought, how will I take care of a baby and trim her nails and how do you even bathe them? Aren't they slippery? And what about those little suction-y things? And why have people given me mitts? And what if I can't hear her crying? And what about when she gets older and glares at me over uneaten-quinoa across the kitchen table? What if she says she hates me?

I spent the rest of the day wandering around in a wrinkled dress trying to figure out how I could be thirty-four years old and still believe that wrinkles just magically fall out of clothes.

Yesterday's anxiety was more generalized. I took an early walk across the Brooklyn Bridge. It was gorgeous, and the sky was so blue, and the city so perfect, and What, I kept thinking, is the purpose of life? Why do we write and love and grasp and grapple, and all day I was coming up empty handed. Students came in and out of my office. One told me a story of her estranged father reattaching the neck of a tiny ceramic goose he had given her mother years earlier. Maybe that's it, I thought. Or maybe the way this light's coming in; or this kick from the baby; or this perfect peach.

By the time I left the office and was walking to yoga, my mom called back. I had left a message that I had two questions.

Her: What's up, girly?

Me: Hey momma. How do you get rid of a sty?

Her: Warm, moist heat.

Me: Great. Thanks. Okay. What's the purpose of life?

Her: Sex, drugs and rock-n-roll.

Me: I thought you might say that.

We hung up, and I went to yoga where I fell into a deep and peaceful sleep and woke up only to eat an Organic Oreo.

So, folks, my mother's weighed in--though she may change her tune now (I was kidding! Do you think they'll know I was kidding!?!)--I need more. Purpose of life, please.


Nicole Callihan said...

(By the way, I'm pretty sure the answer is love.)

Anonymous said...

That is indeed the answer.
Nothing has meaning without it.
Not even hate.

lll ooooooooo vvv vvv eeeeeee
lll ooooooooo vvv vvv eeeeeee
lll ooo ooo vvv vvv ee
lll ooo ooo vvv vvv eeeeeee
lll ooo ooo vvvvvvvvv eeeeeee
lll ooooooooo vvvvvvv ee
lll ooooooooo vvvvv eeeeeee
lll ooooooooo vvv eeeeeee

Andrea Luttrell said...

Well, I don't know about the purpose of life, but I think the mitts are to keep the baby from scratching herself with her nails. And babies do seem slippery. And since she's a girl, she'll probably tell you she hates you once, when she's 13, but then she'll feel bad about it, and y'all will be best buds for the rest of your life. You'll be a great mom! I am positively, absolutely sure about that. Just give her the occasional non-organic, non-natural twinkie with the Quinoa.

Andrea Luttrell said...

Okay! Actually I did think of something in the way of meaning...when a sponsee asked me what I thought God wanted for us, I told her, "to be happy and to be kind to everyone." Surely that includes a lotta love.

Unfortunate Logic said...

oh! that superman ice cream, which is really just multi-colored vanilla, in a giant waffle cone during the summer time. or during the fall when it's almost too cold to actually be eating ice-cream outside.

Anonymous said...


Anonymous said...

I was thinking more like in trumbones.

kate said...

eat. drink. be merry. eat some leftovers.

Joe Hefner said...

Maybe it's just taking it all in... appreciating it for what it is. Nothing more, nothing less.

Dad said...

Joe's comment reminds me of an old cowboy tombstone that read:

"Here lies the body
of Lester Moore.
No Less.
No More."

Which reminds me of another tombstone:

"Here lies the body
of an atheist.
All dressed up
and nowhere to go."

Call me old fashioned, but I still believe in a life after this one, which adds all kinds of purpose to life.

Erica said...

I am too tired to way in on the purpose of life thing, but I can assure you, you will hear her cry and all of her little whimpers and squeaks. They will pull you out of what you think is the deepest sleep you've ever had :-)

Anonymous said...

I'd be worried about you if your weren't freaking out a little... Belive me if I can pull of this motherhood thing (which by the way has become my favorite job) you, my friend FKA as wildwoman...who is thoughtful and kind and loves deeply and see's no color or religion... you are gonna be just fine. Did I tell you Gabe said he didn't like me the other day... it took my breath away.. then 2 minutes later he wanted to read a book... so yeah they won't always like you ... but they will always love you.. because they will know love.. from the moment they see your face.
Much Love,

Brian Morton said...

Your answer is my answer too.

Anonymous said...

here lies lester more
four slugs from a 44
no less, no more

Anonymous said...

It's actually...

No Les
No More