Come on warm weather, you know you want to

"Thus man could observe nature around him on every side and be enhanced both by what he observed and by his own ability to observe. He had no need to consider that he was essentially part of that nature. Man was the eye for which reality had been made visual: the ideal eye, the eye of the viewing-point of Renaissance perspective. The human greatness of this eye lay in its ability to reflect and contact, like a mirror, what was."
-John Berger (1971) in his essay, The Moment of Cubism
***

The temperature outside is rising. The snow is melting. Surely, spring cannot delay its arrival much longer [yes, I realize this was the first snow storm of the year, but I'm putting the fact of global warming out of my mind temporarily in favor of thinking of my own personal comfort]. Oh, spring, that fantastic time of the year when people abandon the indoors and flock to the parks where they can sit and watch the urban spectacle float past or they can throw themselves wholeheartedly into engagement with that spectacle. I'm already daydreaming of the light and breezy clothes that I can resurrect for just such an occasion. With each new spring, that first time out of the house without a jacket becomes a memorable occasion. With the wind caressing newly bared arms, a sense of freedom races through me. Soon, very soon.

This past weekend, I headed down to Washington DC to visit with my friends, Jason and Jayson, both of whom are from Georgia in case you don't know them. We all had a great time playing cards, watching movies, and generally not talking about our jobs or looming life decisions. It was such a relief just to exist, only briefly talking about our jobs or what each of us "do" all week. Alternately, it was so nice to talk with other Georgians about what it is like to live outside of Georgia. As it happens, perhaps this isn't a big surprise, but I do not come across many Georgians living in New York City. Jason noted that NYC is a daunting place for many of our fellow statesmen and women, and I acknowledged that this is quite understandable.

My stepmom has long been warning me (in a kind way of course) that we reach a point in life where we long for "the familiar." For longer than I can remember, I have longed to experience the foreign and the exotic so I brushed off Jody's warning. Now her words come back to me, but not because I am finished with longing for new places and experiences. Oh no, it's definitely not that. Instead, I am pondering what it is that is distinctly "Southern" about me? How much of my way of thinking and believing may be attributed to my graduate education and how much may be attributed to my upbringing? What about me is white besides the color of my skin? What makes me middle-class despite my meagre bank account?

On the bus ride back to New York City, I found myself wondering how to get away from identifying myself so closely with "what I do" since that is not "who I am." Don't get me wrong, I like my job, but for too long now, I have based my personal sense of worth on how I feel about my progress on my professional status. This most definitely is not a healthy response, because if we allow the idea that we are not doing enough or progressing as fast as we think we should to invade our thoughts, dissatisfaction and doubt may take over our very lives. What an utterly unacceptable thought!