All those calluses I’d allowed to build up
All those calluses I’d allowed to build up on my soul to protect me from corporate America are getting rubbed the wrong way lately – a few blisters, some bleeding, but hey, I’m peeling a lot of the scars right off and reminding myself of who I was when I was shiny and new. Life smacks us all around; it’s a matter of being circumstances’ biatch, or fighting the good fight.
My e-mail notifier sound thingy at work is a quote from Dead Poets’ Society: “Never forget, words and ideas can change the world.” I have to remember that it’s OK to be sincere, despite those cynical callouses’ hue and cry against true feeling.
Seems to be a weird kind of remembrance of things past going on the last few weeks… I’ve run into two different people I thought I’d hopelessly lost touch with – Bryan from freshman days, better known as rasx, who always intimidated me with the depth of his being in the world; and Joy, who cruised through the Linguistics program at UCSB with me and who has always been a bright, shining spirit of strength and beauty.
Both of them are human beings who fearlessly speak truth to power, and I am fortunate to know them and see them move in the world.