Bly

Great memories of a wonderful teacher...who helped me to see who I wanted to become. The best compliment I ever received came from her...

"Most people your age are too young to be opinionated in the good sense of the word. Their idea of opinion is only what's right for them, without regard for the well-being of others. But you're different. I can tell that you stand for what you believe to be right, no matter what. You are what being opinionated should be..."

It sounds dumb. I can't explain why it meant so much to me. I can only say that it was a wonderful feeling to hear kind words from someone you knew would never be less than honest. And being told that I was different, that I stood for what was right, that I was truly opinionated in the good sense was the best feeling in the world...especially when it came from the woman who taught me that being opinionated was a virtue, not a vice.

I wish I could tell her how much it changed me to hear her say that...

I woke up this morning and thought I was an adverb.

Let me explain.

I awoke to the alarm. I had no idea what was going on. It's not that I haven't heard the alarm, before, but my brains were empty; the syllable "bly" loomed in my head, and sounded in my ears, without telling me what it is, I assumed it was in a manner that communicated the essense of "b"- and it was all I could be. Somehow, driven perhaps by instinct, I staggered to the shower. I'm not sure how I did it, as there were no thought processes taking place conciously that looked anything like "I should shower". As things began to clear, I could see other syllables, thrashing about behind my eyes and reordering themselves, forming a tower and falling anyway; tigerly (a word?) blamed the attempts to think straight for the collapse. For several minutes I was a body and little more; the only concious thought was several words and parts of words using my brain to put themselves together.