What is your greatest fear? Even
at the age of 56, I would have to say that my greatest fear continues to center
on something dire happening to either of my children. While it is always a parent’s atavistic fear
that serious illness or premature death will strike their offspring, I somehow
thought that, once I steered them through childhood without disaster striking, the
intensity of this particular fear might abate somewhat. While the specific contours have
changed slightly, it seems as firmly entrenched as ever. As a somewhat spiritually conscious individual,
I recognize and accept that sickness and death are inevitable for all of us. I even reluctantly acknowledge the existence
of that most grotesque violation of the laws of nature, namely that children do
not always survive their parents. Nonetheless,
this particular fear remains lodged like a cold, hard stone in the nethermost
pit of my stomach.
What is the trait you most deplore in yourself? The omnipresent feeling that no one else can do something as well or efficiently as I can, so I might as well just do it myself. This attitude has not served me well in life. It has often left me resentful of and impatient with others. It has also left me feeling overwhelmed a lot of the time, as I do work or complete tasks that others could, in fact, do well enough, if not exactly as I would do them. And, I would wager, it has rendered me intolerable—whether as a colleague, parent, or partner—to others on more than one occasion!
What is the trait you most deplore in yourself? The omnipresent feeling that no one else can do something as well or efficiently as I can, so I might as well just do it myself. This attitude has not served me well in life. It has often left me resentful of and impatient with others. It has also left me feeling overwhelmed a lot of the time, as I do work or complete tasks that others could, in fact, do well enough, if not exactly as I would do them. And, I would wager, it has rendered me intolerable—whether as a colleague, parent, or partner—to others on more than one occasion!
On what occasion do you lie? At
this point in my life, I consider myself an intrinsically honest person except
when it comes to social niceties. I
confess to committing, not infrequently, the venial sin of the social white
lie. That said, I try never to lie in my
personal and professional relationships.
I have done so in the past, and the results were always disastrous. This was a hard-won lesson.
What do you dislike most about your appearance? Ignoring for the moment the parade of horrors that ageing presents in the mirror most mornings, my skin has plagued me most of my life. Even though the ravages of acne are long past, and the scars no longer visible, the psychological scars, I fear, are permanent. Not even the specter of wrinkles and sagging skin can send me spinning into total despair the way the ten or more years, in my teens and early twenties, serious acne could and did. Thank God for Accutane, that little of shop of horrors in its own right.
Which words or phrases do you most overuse? My friends and acquaintances who consider me unnecessarily (and not, I might add, amusingly) pedantic might have quite a long list, but I myself am aware that I often preface comments, stories, anecdotes, etc. with the phrase: “It’s interesting . . . .” I try to catch myself when I am about to say this, recognizing fully that what I am about to say might not really be all that interesting to the listener, but nine out of ten times it slips out before I can withhold it. It’s more of a nervous tic than a self-serving description of what I am about to say.
When and where were you happiest? I can only hope my husband and children are not offended by this, but in all honesty I am most happy when I am alone, reading or studying something that I find enthralling, and am able, however temporarily, to absorb myself entirely with what is before me to the exclusion of all my quotidian or larger concerns and commitments. As an example, I can recall in particular a period of time in the early 1980s when I lived in Richmond, VA and was engrossed in my first reading of Remembrance of Things Past. I worked all day, went for a run after work, and then 2-3 nights a week had dinner alone, at the long-defunct Grace Place on Grace Street, where I read Proust for an hour. An idyllic setting (either indoors or during nice weather, on the outdoor patio behind the restaurant), a fabulous vegetarian meal, and my complete absorption in the magnificent, majestic world of ROTP all amounted to a little slice of heaven.
What talent would you most like to have? I have always marveled at musical talent. I never learned to play an instrument and there is something about the idea of musical composition that eludes me entirely. I have enormous awe and respect for musicians. While I do not feel incomplete without this talent, I have often speculated that musicians have access to a spiritual or psychic dimension that precludes entry to non-musicians.
If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be? Like Lot’s wife, I find myself looking back when I know good and well I should not. This results in lots of “would haves, could haves, should haves.” Likewise, I worry a lot about the future. Despite my 30+ years practicing yoga, I find it a daily struggle to live in the present.
What is your most treasured possession? This is a tough one, but if I had to say, my paternal grandmother’s small, dangling, diamond earrings might top the list. These are not at all valuable, but they are simple, elegant, and I never put them on without immediately feeling my Nanny’s presence around me. Very cool.
What do you regard as the lowest depth of misery? Those instances when I am, or imagine I am, estranged from someone I love.
Where would you like to live? Good question, but one that remains open at the moment. This is a work in progress, so I will abstain at this time.
What is your favorite occupation? No surprise here, but that would be reading, hands down. Fiction, non-fiction, poetry, essays, anything really. There simply are not enough hours in the day.
What is your most marked characteristic? At the risk of sounding self-serving, I would have to say earnestness. While I have, since childhood, been frequently accused of being “too serious” a person, I prefer to view myself as my beloved, late Uncle John did (or so he told me), as “intensely earnest.” To a fault perhaps, but there it is.
Who is your favorite hero(ine) of fiction? Clarissa Dalloway. I have read Virginia Woolf’s Mrs. Dalloway three times, and she resonates with me more with each reading. My 2014 re-reading was especially resonant because at 56, I was finally the same age as Clarissa is on the June day on which the novel takes place. Woolf’s depiction of Clarissa is so brilliantly conceived, so thoroughly dimensioned, and so absolutely documented, that I can relate to all of Clarissa’s ambiguities, whether they relate to class, friendship, motherhood, marriage, or sexual orientation. She incarnates womanhood in all of its strengths and weaknesses.
What do you dislike most about your appearance? Ignoring for the moment the parade of horrors that ageing presents in the mirror most mornings, my skin has plagued me most of my life. Even though the ravages of acne are long past, and the scars no longer visible, the psychological scars, I fear, are permanent. Not even the specter of wrinkles and sagging skin can send me spinning into total despair the way the ten or more years, in my teens and early twenties, serious acne could and did. Thank God for Accutane, that little of shop of horrors in its own right.
Which words or phrases do you most overuse? My friends and acquaintances who consider me unnecessarily (and not, I might add, amusingly) pedantic might have quite a long list, but I myself am aware that I often preface comments, stories, anecdotes, etc. with the phrase: “It’s interesting . . . .” I try to catch myself when I am about to say this, recognizing fully that what I am about to say might not really be all that interesting to the listener, but nine out of ten times it slips out before I can withhold it. It’s more of a nervous tic than a self-serving description of what I am about to say.
When and where were you happiest? I can only hope my husband and children are not offended by this, but in all honesty I am most happy when I am alone, reading or studying something that I find enthralling, and am able, however temporarily, to absorb myself entirely with what is before me to the exclusion of all my quotidian or larger concerns and commitments. As an example, I can recall in particular a period of time in the early 1980s when I lived in Richmond, VA and was engrossed in my first reading of Remembrance of Things Past. I worked all day, went for a run after work, and then 2-3 nights a week had dinner alone, at the long-defunct Grace Place on Grace Street, where I read Proust for an hour. An idyllic setting (either indoors or during nice weather, on the outdoor patio behind the restaurant), a fabulous vegetarian meal, and my complete absorption in the magnificent, majestic world of ROTP all amounted to a little slice of heaven.
What talent would you most like to have? I have always marveled at musical talent. I never learned to play an instrument and there is something about the idea of musical composition that eludes me entirely. I have enormous awe and respect for musicians. While I do not feel incomplete without this talent, I have often speculated that musicians have access to a spiritual or psychic dimension that precludes entry to non-musicians.
If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be? Like Lot’s wife, I find myself looking back when I know good and well I should not. This results in lots of “would haves, could haves, should haves.” Likewise, I worry a lot about the future. Despite my 30+ years practicing yoga, I find it a daily struggle to live in the present.
What is your most treasured possession? This is a tough one, but if I had to say, my paternal grandmother’s small, dangling, diamond earrings might top the list. These are not at all valuable, but they are simple, elegant, and I never put them on without immediately feeling my Nanny’s presence around me. Very cool.
What do you regard as the lowest depth of misery? Those instances when I am, or imagine I am, estranged from someone I love.
Where would you like to live? Good question, but one that remains open at the moment. This is a work in progress, so I will abstain at this time.
What is your favorite occupation? No surprise here, but that would be reading, hands down. Fiction, non-fiction, poetry, essays, anything really. There simply are not enough hours in the day.
What is your most marked characteristic? At the risk of sounding self-serving, I would have to say earnestness. While I have, since childhood, been frequently accused of being “too serious” a person, I prefer to view myself as my beloved, late Uncle John did (or so he told me), as “intensely earnest.” To a fault perhaps, but there it is.
Who is your favorite hero(ine) of fiction? Clarissa Dalloway. I have read Virginia Woolf’s Mrs. Dalloway three times, and she resonates with me more with each reading. My 2014 re-reading was especially resonant because at 56, I was finally the same age as Clarissa is on the June day on which the novel takes place. Woolf’s depiction of Clarissa is so brilliantly conceived, so thoroughly dimensioned, and so absolutely documented, that I can relate to all of Clarissa’s ambiguities, whether they relate to class, friendship, motherhood, marriage, or sexual orientation. She incarnates womanhood in all of its strengths and weaknesses.
No comments:
Post a Comment