Strange

Why the strange image to start this blog?

I don’t know. I feel strange.

This is a strange semester. A strange year. A strange moment in a strange life. Strange, strange, strange.

A good writing teacher would tell you never to use the same adjective over and over again. Good for the good writing teacher. I bet their writing is good.

Good writing is for good writing teachers. I’ll let this strange blog on this strange Saturday morning be a piece of strange writing that stands alone.

***

I woke up with the song People are Strange by the Doors in my head this morning. I have no idea why. I haven’t listened to the Doors for years. I’m not a huge Doors fan, though Riders on the Storm and The End still stand up.

Dad listened to the Doors greatest hits album when I was a kid. The cassette played on a loop in his car. I loved the sound of distant thunder at the beginning of Riders in the Storm.

A girl who sat next to me in 10th grade made me a mixtape with The Crystal Ship on it. I liked that song because I liked that the girl who sat next to me made me a mixtape. Incidentally, 10th grade Algebra was the beginning of the end of my ability to do math. Not sure if there is a correlation. I can’t imagine Jim Morrison was any good at Math. Maybe he was.

Anyway, this isn’t a blog about the Doors. But I’m telling you why the word strange is in my head. And I do think this moment is strange.

I’m barely teaching this fall. I took the course release the fine people at The University of Iowa gave me when I was hired. I’m teaching a section of a Master’s seminar in English Education. There’s only a handful of students. Despite my easy teaching load, I’m swamped. Administrative work, service, and research fill my days. And meetings. Lots of hours staring at screens and listening to people talk. Reading and writing email. Nothing to complain about, but I’m noticing that this sort of work isn’t giving me lots of joy right now. Teaching doesn’t always give me joy, but it sometimes does. And, since about 2003, fall has always revolved on around teaching. Not this fall. This is one reason the fall of 2023 is strange.

And Iowa still feels very new to me. I can’t say that Katie and I have had much success in finding community. Not that I’ve been doing a great job of seeking it out. But there’s a sense of isolation here that I’m starting to recognize. I wonder what sort of joy I’m finding in my life outside of work? I’ll admit I’ve been fixated on my job since I got here. I’d like to fixate on something else, I suppose.

I don’t know. I’m happy to be here in this moment. But I’m also sad about some of what was lost in moving to a new place. I wouldn’t not move to Iowa if I had the chance again, but I can still be sad about how hard it is to build a new life in a new place. I’m happy to have arrived at this moment of adulthood and also sad about getting older. Both things can be true because being alive is complex.

This moment is exactly different than other moments of my life. Thus, there’s a strangeness to it. That’s all.

***

I looked up the Wikipedia entry for People are Strange just now. There’s an anecdote about a deeply depressed Morrison going for a walk and returning with euphoria because the idea for the song came to him. That’s reassuring. Perhaps I’m on the verge of some great, euphoric epiphany. Some great song.

For now, I’ll challenge myself to find peace in this strange moment. Not to run from the strangeness or ignore it but, rather, acknowledge and move with it. That seems the healthy thing to do.

Oh, and I don’t intend to use Jim Morrison as a model for any of what happens next in my life. Maybe the leather pants.