it’s the first week of the new semester. yesterday was the first day. the instructor of my ‘prose forms’ class used the phrase the life of the mind a couple times in the course of our first meeting.

the first time (or second), she praised us, claiming that we (students in an MFA creative writing program- and i’m assuming this would include her, as well) are ‘brave,’ because we’ve chosen to embrace the life of the mind, rather than the petty practical concerns of, you know, getting a good job and making money and blah blah blah. of course, this is debatable.

beyond that, though, i’ve never understood the phrase the life of the mind. isn’t that just, like, life? who’s living outside their mind? we can try to push beyond ourselves, and at our best we might achieve fleeting moments where we come close to understanding the perspective of others, but it’s the tragedy of us all that we can never escape our own  narrow, stupid selves.

• i have social phobia
• i am bored, sometimes
• i don’t like using silverware because of the way it bangs against my teeth
• i see the world in a particular way
• i share my thoughts, sometimes
• i perform. for others, but mostly for myself.
• i hope i’m interesting, but i’m afraid that i’m not
• i usually wish i was anyone other than the person i am
• i can count on one hand the number of times i have felt like an adult in my life. usually when i’m telling one of my students to ‘act like an adult’). i’m 42 years old.
• i wonder if i mistake depression for boredom
• sometimes