Clarity

A friend of mine has suggested that my signature response is "unclear". The genesis of this is long, and I cannot claim all the credit. Leaving that aside- tonight I began to wonder why i have such fondness for this response.

The reality is, it is a lazy response.

"What do you want to do tonight?"- Unclear
"How do you feel about his decision?"- Oy, Unclear
"This is a tough situation, how do you want to deal?"- Unclear

It's lazy. It is also self-protectionist at times, but it is fundamentally lazy.

But I wonder if in my case, it is actually a crutch, holding up something more. In the flash of a day, we make hundreds of decisions. In my professional day, some of those decisions are relatively important. (Nothing like saving babies, but it is all relative in politics) So I spend my day, sometimes in rapid fire succession, making these decisions. Unclear never gets to be the answer.

But on a personal level, unclear is a space maker. It pushes the question, and the person asking it- away. Theoretically, this space helps to inform clarity, and provides for breathing room.

I guess the question is- why is clarity of mind hard to find? Why is it something that I am constantly seeking? I personally am prone to say its because clarity isn't a real construct- but that is merely the cynic speaking.

But truthfully, if clarity was a real thing, a real space to be achieved, then wouldn't we be able to clear ourselves of prejudice and find it? Wouldn't there always be a right, a best answers? Wouldn't you be able to know what was next?

Unclear, it seems.

So it begins...

I have always had a love-hate relationship with words. The writing process feels so private, so intimate. But then again, we have bastardized it to the point that the process is exposed for all to see, comment, and worst of all, track changes on.

I write in my professional world. But more often, I edit. I edit with red pen. It's a terrible thing to do, and yet- I find it helps me find the clarity needed to edit objective. To edit, to change, and to interrupt the work product of a colleague and sometimes a friend. A secret- sometimes, if the person has been particularly good to me, I'll search for a different color pen. It feels less offensive.

Throughout graduate school, and in my professional life- writing has been stripped of its magic. Where it was once an escape, a solution, and a voice- it has become a vehicle, a mechanism and a tool.

So this is an attempt to reclaim a lost voice. An attempt to put it all in one place. No matter how connected we have become because of the internet- I feel like I've lost the art. Not going to lie, Pinterest scares me. It feels like a huge commitment. Facebook? We can all admit that relationship is unhealthy, and overly exhibitionist. The only thing worse? Twitter. Not a solution to world hunger. It is just not.

So here we go. Here I go. To try and reclaim a lost love, and some pieces of myself along the way.