First Marker: Where I Stand

Another Pre-amble
I do know how to spell preamble, but I thought I'd show off. Well, that's done; two preambles is one too many, so this is the last time you'll see me murder this word on my blog. However, I thought I'd add something to my previous foreword.

While pushing my way through the Labor Day weekend mall crowd in Schaumburg, it occurred to me that my preparation would be two-fold. There is the crucial requirement that I get into shape so that my co-pilgrims would not have to accompany me in an emergency vehicle before the trip ends. (I must admit that my compliance in doing the pilgrimage was very much influenced by the fact that one of my co-pilgrims is a doctor.) The other preparation I have to do is emotional/intellectual. I'm not just referring to a pep talk of the "I can do this" variety but also the "man's search for meaning" kind of thing that usually accompanies formidable projects. If I gain neither revelation nor redemption from something as huge as this, well, where does one find it?

Taking Stock: My Body
I weigh 160 pounds.

I am flabby in some places.

I was told about 5 years ago that my lung capacity was less than ideal. After further testing in a hospital (in a plastic bubble that probably showed my capacity for hyperventilating more than normal breathing), this was confirmed. However, the kind specialist also reassured me that the data was modeled on tall, Nordic women and that I shouldn't be too worried.

I am flat-footed and have a bunion on my right foot. In other words, my shoe choices are usually determined by comfort rather than style. (Yes, to all of you who have noticed my rather drab-looking shoes, this is why.)

I have hypertension, but this is well-controlled by medication. Lately, my blood pressure readings have been beautiful.

Taking Stock: My Mind
From Publishers Weekly: "Generally writers fall into one of two camps: those who feel that one can't write without having a firm grasp on Proust, and those who, like Virginia Woolf, are crippled by his influence..."

I am a writer. I have not read Proust. I have not even tried. I'm afraid to belong to either camp above. I have not read "How Proust Can Change Your Life" by Alain De Botton either, although I knew of the book's existence and its reputation as a lively read.

However, I think there is a vacuum in my brain that needs to be filled by Proust. Just look at this quotation by him: "A powerful idea communicates some of its strength to him who challenges it." Genius. And I was told there's much, much more.

So, it's clear there's some work to be done here. This is my first marker: the starting line. Recognition of who and what I am today will propel me from a state of inertia to forward movement, and hopefully, growth. Isn't that what turning older is all about?

Peace,
Almira