To enlist. To slam the door impulsively on the past, to shed everything down to my last bit of clothing, to break the pattern of my life - that complex design I had been weaving since birth with all its dark threads, its unexplainable symbols set against a conventional background of domestic white and schoolboy blue, all those tangled strands which required the dexterity of a virtuoso to keep it flowing - I yearned to take giant military shears to it, snap! bitten off in an instant, and nothing left in my hands but spools of khaki which could weave only a plain, flat, khaki design, however twisted they might be.Oh, how this quote speaks to me. I am certain that, at least on some level, this is why I enlisted in the military at 17. I enjoy moving, not only for the new experiences, places, and people, but because I have the constant opportunity to remake myself. I can, if I so choose and have the discipline, toss aside the flotsam and detritus that is floating about my personality and life.
Note: I think that one of the wonderful things about starting an active reading practice is that I'm also creating the practice of journaling in a conscience way. I am thoroughly enjoying it.