chocolate is a verb

colors, flavors, whims and other growing things

gratitude, overdue…

library bookshelvesI wish I could thank her, but I never knew her name.

It had all seemed so straightforward: college. The bliss of leaving home, the restraints sprung, the possibility of learning, of having new friends.

I declared a major: sociology. I would do something worthwhile…make a difference. I strolled the campus whistling, the sound echoing.

But after the first year, I slid into a morass. A tearless sophomore-year depression. Long self-pitying walks on the abandoned beach. Fantasies of being rescued. The urge to make art whispered at my edges — the urge I had suppressed so successfully for so long. Anything, I reasoned, to avoid becoming my mother.

Miserable, I went to the library, the other safe place, and asked the librarian for something: a key, a miracle, an answer. I don’t remember the question. But she said, Why don’t you look at some college catalogs? and pointed me to a long shelf of books. Hundreds of them, from universities all over the world.

I went to the shelf and began pulling them down. First one, then dozens. Looking through them for the answer, as if I would somehow recognize it in front of me. It grew dark outside. And then, suddenly, there it was: the Design department at UC Berkeley: weaving. A bell resonated inside me, perfect pitch. I knew: this was the place, the key, the miracle.

I took the catalog and walked out of the library across the flat campus toward the dorm. Along the way, in the middle of a broad lawn, there stood a huge tree I had passed innumerable times. In the soft evening light, I stepped close to the tree, hugged it fiercely and, at long last, wept.
—–
library bookshelves

One response to “gratitude, overdue…

  1. Marla B. August 29, 2011 at 8:47 am

    http://youtu.be/PHiftaZ8F5c Mutual admiration society!! <3 you Judy!!

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