I had a boyfriend once, whose greatest gift of love was to teach me to drive stick shift on his beloved black Mustang. I am not sure that he realized the sacrifice he was making, but I know myself well, and I take effort to know others. The introspective and the interpersonal Emilies conferred and it became known that something important was happening. That day, amid the timid (never a good adjective for a driver) and tense maneuvers down the back roads south of town, he put his baby in my hands as I took the wheel. That day, I learned the true, and deep meaning of the idiom, “that really grinds my gears.”
The relationship was brief (though important for my personal development, or so says introspective Emilie), but my understanding of the idiom lives on, quite vivid in my memory. I will always remember him as saintly in his patience that day.
The idiom for today, is “finding your groove.” Though I have no idea as to the origin of this idiom, nor do I want to research it, I have come to an understanding that I surmise is the true meaning. I have been thinking a lot about what to do with my life. As I have heard (this is interpersonal Emilie now), this happens to many people after they graduate from college.
I have been going through a lot these past few months. It has been a lot of personal stuff that surprises introspective Emilie, in that I am reluctant to blast my emotions or personal issues all over the interweb. If you ever want to know, ask me in person, and I will literally spew (introspective Emilie has been busy, and likes to share). It is due to the internet-shy side of me that this blog has been silent for a month and a half– in direct contradiction to my original intentions.
One thing that has happened most recently, is that I have begun to explore the idea of Emilie the writer. I love beauty. I love the most expensive item in the catalog, even when the prices have been crossed out. As a girl, I read Little Women, Jane Eyre, Little House on the Prairie, and Pride and Prejudice. I marveled over my grandmothers jewelry, and romanticized the domestic sciences. I wanted to draw, and paint, and play piano, and ride on horses, and be proper. Except that, I didn’t. I suppose I do some of those things, but I never managed to be quite the image. The other part of me, the part that wanted to grow up to be an, “saver of endangered species,” or, “a peacemaker,” (as documented in the journal of 1998). I grew up to be a lover of justice and beauty, and on the best of days, I view myself as both of those things.
Introspective Emilie is getting uncomfortable at the level of emotional honesty here, so we are going to bring it back to the metaphor of the day. The short track to that end is this: life is like a turntable. Sometimes when you flip to the B side, or try out a new genre, you don’t sink into the musical rut right away. When you are out of the groove, life is uncomfortable, and sometimes painful, but finding that groove is like magic.