The major news since I last posted is that I got adopted. Yes, it was perhaps a bit odd to do this at my age, but I needed to and it was good for me as well as for my stepfather, who had originally offered to do it in 1984 or thereabouts.
I’m still shy about the adoption even though it’s been just over a year now. The reason I hadn’t done it when I was younger was because I was afraid of hurting my biological father’s feelings. I suppose I remain sensitive to that concern. Another reason I’m shy is because on the same January morning we were in Worcester Probate Court taking care of the paperwork, River’s father was experiencing a severe heart attack, and it was all a little much. Now that a year has passed things are settled down a bit more, but I’m cautious about celebrating. Maybe I shouldn’t be. I don’t want to invite trouble.
Other not-so-major news is that I’ve survived about halfway through grad school. I’m now at the point where I can begin considering my thesis project topic in earnest. It will probably have something to do with public participation in urban development matters, but the details are not yet clear for me. This summer I am hoping to do an internship heading in that sort of direction and it may bring some clarity to the final project. I have enjoyed the instruction of some good professors so far and a couple of classes in particular this year have helped me think critically about policy theory and analysis in the areas that interest me most.
It’s been challenging and enjoyable… but I am also eager to have paid work. Doing it all at once is not feasible so I’ve had to remind myself to be patient. It is easy to forget how much of my energy and attention still goes toward tending to my kids.
The Baha’i fast has arrived again and not a day too soon as usual. Lately I’ve been feeling like I need something to bring me focus, like I’m all spread out in too many places and thoughts and don’t have enough skill or capacity to do any one thing right and completely for goodness sake. Distraction is a terrible disease. Fasting has a way of helping me peel away the excess mental stuff (sometimes very unwillingly) and come back around to what’s essential, like for survival’s sake, as a practical matter even. It means letting go of expectations and that can be wonderfully freeing. Reduced expectations are such a gift.
Of course it also means spring is nearly here which is terribly exciting. Maybe this season I can actually manage to garden successfully after being a real flake about it last year (the awful tomato blight didn’t help matters). Or maybe I can repair the missing latticework underneath our front porch and back deck. Or take more walks. Maybe finally befriend that nice lady and her son who moved in down the block. Or get a dog. Or plant a couple of flowering trees that will survive this time—yes, I do really want to do that. Especially a cherry tree.