My dad used to tell me I was really good at starting to get into learning about things. I took that as a compliment. I’m pretty sure it wasn’t. He meant that I was great at cracking open the surface of knowledge, looking at the sparkly center, and then putting it away. I studied several languages… for a year. I read some great books… once. I learned basic sewing, but never got very good at it. In fact, I can’t do it at all now, but that’s more a decision (and fear of zipper placement) than boredom and inability. I learned how to oil paint for a few months. I took some piano lessons, some flute lessons, and even some bassoon lessons (I am so totally not making this up — I didn’t want to march in the band, so I played the bassoon during class, but I still had to march — I just got to crash cymbals instead of making notes and tunes come out of an instrument — and while we’re at it, the middle school band had a rocking rendition of the Go-Go’s “We’ve Got the Beat” directed by Mr. Leon Enneking). I studied Humanities in college (and yes, I got a degree) — and the very definition of Humanities is learning a little bit about a whole lot of great stuff. (Maybe that’s not the “very definition” but that’s my definition, and this is, as you probably recall, my blog.)
Um.
Still there.
I am a romancer of learning. I love to know a bit about everything (or not everything, as you may choose to look at it).
And I’m not alone.
This week, I’ve made friends with Walt Whitman, which is a riot. Kind of like reading a stream-of-consciousness blog. He’s the best. I’m all kinds of inspired. And listen to this:
BEGINNING MY STUDIES
Beginning my studies the first step pleas’d me so much,
The mere fact consciousness, these forms, the power of motion,
The least insect or animal, the senses, eyesight, love,
The first step I say awed me and pleas’d me so much,
I have hardly gone and hardly wish’d to go any farther,
But stop and loiter all the time to sing it in ecstatic songs.
See? Uncle Walt was romancing the education, too. And look where that got him. He was the quintessential American poet (until Maya — Maya forever).
I got a copy of “Leaves of Grass” from the library this week. It’s the crumbly newsprint copy that holds that old-book funk, making my eyes water and my teeth itch. The cover has a picture of Uncle Walt looking like Santa Claus in his madman’s beard and his suede hat, and carries a purchase price of $1.25 (twelfth printing, 1964). 
I may be laying all my faults bare today, but I confess I wanted to play with the poems before I committed. I’m ready to commit now. I want to get my own copy. I want it hardbound. I think I’ll buy it for me for my birthday. I’ll add it to the pretty black sweater I bought myself last month and hung in Husband’s closet and the Alice Walker poetry book “Hard Times Require Furious Dancing” which is gorgeous and was 80% off at Border’s last week. And then I’ll stop buying poetry books for myself. And sweaters. And I’ll let someone else wrap them all up for me.
And I’ll revel in the fact that it’s okay for me to romance the education. To peek in. To flirt with knowledge. To date around when it comes to writing style and reading choices and book buying commitments. I can be the jack-of-all, master-of-none, and that is fine. That is me. That is how I learn, how I live, how I love to discover. The things worth working for are there, and they are important, and even crucial, but for me, they all revolve around relationships, not accumulated knowledge.
If it’s different for you, more power, pal. That’s great. I admire the ability and the desire to plumb the depths. And please pardon me while I swim around here in the shallows, enjoying the stunning life in the tidepools, the sunlight playing off the shiny rocks, and the heaviness of the wet sand.
(20) Comments for this blog
Oh, am I ever a romancer of education (such a better way to think of it that “dabbling”)! I love those bright sparkly centers and then feel compelled to move on to the next thing. What I love about this post (well, you know, beyond its general brilliance) is that I tend to think of that trait as a weakness and try to force myself into a different mold but–lightbulb!–it’s who I am and it’s okay to be okay with that. Cheers, you!
Oh, am I ever a romancer of education (such a better way to think of it that “dabbling”)! I love those bright sparkly centers and then feel compelled to move on to the next thing. What I love about this post (well, you know, beyond its general brilliance) is that I tend to think of that trait as a weakness and try to force myself into a different mold but–lightbulb!–it’s who I am and it’s okay to be okay with that. Cheers, you!
I admire you for wanting to learn in the first place. When I got to that Whitman poem my eyes glazed over and my mind wandered. I don’t even want to know. I wish I did. But I only want to know about certain things, and I leave the rest to people like you. And I’m okay with that.
(I confess though, that every now and then I find something new to dive in to.)
I admire you for wanting to learn in the first place. When I got to that Whitman poem my eyes glazed over and my mind wandered. I don’t even want to know. I wish I did. But I only want to know about certain things, and I leave the rest to people like you. And I’m okay with that.
(I confess though, that every now and then I find something new to dive in to.)
I got to study Walt in college (best class ever!) At least, I think it was Walt…brainfog!
I got to study Walt in college (best class ever!) At least, I think it was Walt…brainfog!
I have this issue of feeling like there’s all kinds of things I should be learning but not finding the time to do it. Most of the time, though, I figure there’s a time and season for everything and I won’t always have an 18 month old on my lap and things like sewing can wait to be learned.
I have this issue of feeling like there’s all kinds of things I should be learning but not finding the time to do it. Most of the time, though, I figure there’s a time and season for everything and I won’t always have an 18 month old on my lap and things like sewing can wait to be learned.
I’m soooo in the same boat. I know a little French, a little Japanese, a little horticulture, a little piano, a little programming…and a lot of other littles.
I also have what I refer to as Craft ADHD. I can’t seem to stick with one thing for too long or I go bonkers. But, frankly, I think that’s just fine.
Hooray for the romance.
I’m soooo in the same boat. I know a little French, a little Japanese, a little horticulture, a little piano, a little programming…and a lot of other littles.
I also have what I refer to as Craft ADHD. I can’t seem to stick with one thing for too long or I go bonkers. But, frankly, I think that’s just fine.
Hooray for the romance.
I adore this blog, I have been having such a great time getting lost in the pages!
I adore this blog, I have been having such a great time getting lost in the pages!
Things I have sort of tipped my toes into: Spanish, French, German, Italian (can’t speak any of them, but can count to ten in Spanish, so that’s something). Quilting, scrapbooking, scuba diving, gardening. Piano, violin…And the list goes on.
I try lots of things, but sort of give up on them once I learn them, rather than getting really good at them. I’d hate for other people to be envious of my talents. I’m magnaminous (sp?) that way.
Also, I nominated you for an award,so go to my blog to check it out.
Things I have sort of tipped my toes into: Spanish, French, German, Italian (can’t speak any of them, but can count to ten in Spanish, so that’s something). Quilting, scrapbooking, scuba diving, gardening. Piano, violin…And the list goes on.
I try lots of things, but sort of give up on them once I learn them, rather than getting really good at them. I’d hate for other people to be envious of my talents. I’m magnaminous (sp?) that way.
Also, I nominated you for an award,so go to my blog to check it out.
So maybe it’s congenital — spoken by the soldier/manager/consultant/teacher dad.
We could refer to an earlier comment about the thrill of Shakespeare and the yawn of Wilkie Collins, or the transport of Homer and the trudge of Leonidas.
Seems to me you go way deep in making a home, writing fiction and growing more beautiful by the week.
What makes you think the beginning learning comment wasn’t a gracious welcome to an endlessly intriguing club?
So maybe it’s congenital — spoken by the soldier/manager/consultant/teacher dad.
We could refer to an earlier comment about the thrill of Shakespeare and the yawn of Wilkie Collins, or the transport of Homer and the trudge of Leonidas.
Seems to me you go way deep in making a home, writing fiction and growing more beautiful by the week.
What makes you think the beginning learning comment wasn’t a gracious welcome to an endlessly intriguing club?
Have you tried your hand at writing poetry in all of that romancing? I would LOVE to be a poet like my husband.
I am like you a bit. I get on jags with things I want to learn. I dive in a little and then never really get to 100%. Lately it is making sushi. Got a book, dishes, DVD. Now I need to get doing it.
Have you tried your hand at writing poetry in all of that romancing? I would LOVE to be a poet like my husband.
I am like you a bit. I get on jags with things I want to learn. I dive in a little and then never really get to 100%. Lately it is making sushi. Got a book, dishes, DVD. Now I need to get doing it.
I don’t usually make comments, but your post sruck home. I realized that there are a lot of people like this, me being one. I have accomplished a lot in my life but I don’t feel I have one great thing that sticks out. I know my lack of success is tied to fear, in either that I am afraid to fail or afraid to succeed. I have come to realize that things in life are not worth doing unless it makes you happy.
I don’t usually make comments, but your post sruck home. I realized that there are a lot of people like this, me being one. I have accomplished a lot in my life but I don’t feel I have one great thing that sticks out. I know my lack of success is tied to fear, in either that I am afraid to fail or afraid to succeed. I have come to realize that things in life are not worth doing unless it makes you happy.