I understand completely that I am too introspective

Cherubs:


I have been cautioned about my introspectiveness. I have been counseled (and I think carefully, and with forethought and love) that I must join the world, that I am alone too much in my thoughts.


I think perhaps that all those who council me are quite correct. One cannot sit and contemplate one's navel. Yes, indeedy, I agree.


But dearest cherubs, I ask you this..... who is thinking? Who is thinking? And I ask one more time, who is thinking?

Writers serve a purpose in the world. We sit around during train rides to Boston and we think of stuff. Sometimes, we look around us and make an observance that might, one hopes, be useful to somebody else. Notice that I don't say "everybody" I simply say "somebody". I really don't care two bits if I ever publish a book but I sure do care two bits if I don't influence or communicate with other human beings.


I have several good friends who have encouraged me to write a book. What in the sweet name of heaven would I write about I wonder? My family is indeed, colorful. If I wrote about them, I might risk hurting somebody whom I never would have intended to hurt.


I could write about the things that bother me, confuse me, piss me off, make me happy.... make me happy.... I have to think about the "make me happy thing".


I have declared often to those whom I love and to those perhaps who simply endure me that "happiness is an unproductive state". Do you know when I am completely happy? It's when I am doing absolutely nothing. I am completely happy, in a bubble bath, in a tub that I don't have to clean, sipping a glass of wine that I didn't have to buy, looking at towels on towel warmers that somebody else is paying the electricity bill for, knowing that I will soon wrap myself in those towels.


Happiness is not productive. Agnst is productive. Worry and gnashing of teeth is productive (sometimes). Carefulness, and planning and consideration all are productive...but happiness? Well, to me it really is not conducive to getting anything done.


I believe that our founding fathers guranteed us only the "pursuit of happiness". The pursuit, is all that is guaranteed. The happiness is all a matter of perception.

I pursue my bubble bath. But I know that what I contribute is of value. But nobody is going to say to me "hooray for you Margaret". So who will say that to me, other than myself -- nobody I think.


So back to introspectiviness. I am indeed, introspective, and perhaps I wonder why that is. It is, I think, because I give myself the credit and rely on nobody else to do so. Even if somebody says, nope, you didn't get there or you didn't do what I wanted you to do, I still know that I am a person of worth. I guess I credit a person who sat across from me. in a leather chair-- a woman, my therapist, who saved my life.

I no longer see her on a regular basis, but she saved my life nonetheless, and my gratitude to her knows no bounds.

Today, I went to a gym to begin the process of putting back together my body to match my psyche. And my trainer was another kind of therapist. I could tell that he had compassion and I could tell that he had a sense of humor. I did only 9 pushups in one minute. But I knew that if I made a commitement, those 9 pushups would grow. I remember the feeling of muscles working from another life. Thank you to all my dance teachers for that.

Cherubs, the pursuit of happiness, is a very great pursuit. It is my humble opinion that one should attempt it as best one can, even if it results in lack of production. And please all of you, forgive my introspection because what can one do? I am thinking. I am thinking. I am thinking.

Warmly, and with love, Margaret