I pondered this for a while. What could she mean? How could she assume anyone truly doesn't need inspiration. Without inspiration, aren't the words just a jumbled mess? My conclusion: NO! (Ah, Confidence! There you are!)
When I sit down at my computer to type a 6-page paper on libel and prior restraint for my media law class, I am rarely inspired. I feel no passion for the subject. I simple write the paper because it's expected of me. If I don't, I fail the class. That's blatant motivation, if I've ever seen it!
On the contrary--if I sit down to write in my journal (or in this case, my blog) I typically don't have a specific topic that inspires me to write. When I write, it's organic--it happens then, no planning. Don't get me wrong, I love plans. I love schedules. But when I write, you won't catch me dead with a web or an outline. I just don't operate that way. I just write whatever pops into my head. I realize this doesn't result in beautiful prose--but what do I care? I'm not here to impress you. It's when you just start typing that beautiful things (not words) happen.
The ideas make their grand entrance and the passion floods the screen.
In fact, as I'm responding to the article I read this morning, the headband placed on my desk continually catches my eye. That's right, I'm taking a tangent for a headband. Why Not?
This is no ordinary headband. No, it's not magical, it can't perform miracles, it doesn't even make bad hair days go away--as a matter of fact, it makes it worse; much worse. So what makes this headband so special? Nothing. At least not right now. For this headband to mean something, you have to GIVE it a meaning. So far I've just typed the word: headband, I've given no descriptions of the strange contraption--you're probably envisioning some reject piece of plastic from claire's.
Oh boy, are you wrong!
This thick piece of curved plastic, which is carefully balancing on the bookshelf next to the recently-cracked textbooks, is a most prized possession. Given to me by a dear friend, it's much more than any old plastic apparatus--it's a memory. After a very long, very tearful goodbye I had to let one of my best friends walk out of my life in order to catch her plane back to Japan. Japan seems like it'd be a fantastic place to visit, but I must admit--I've always been a little bitter toward the country. No, no; nothing to do with Pearl harbor. But, what's with you sending all your greatest students to OSU then stealing them away right at the moment when we're closest? I guess I'll never know. Mai gave the headband to me the day she left, it was her own and she wore it often. She looked beautiful in this blue and red plaid headband, and I always told her. One day she wasn't looking and I tried on that piece of plastic covered in fabric. It looked horrible, and I'm not just saying that. She must have caught me, or saw me out of the corner of her eye. The day she left, she gave me a whole bag of things. A few books I head loaned her, a letter addressed to her 'little sister,' and the headband. I took it out and began to hand it back; it must be a mistake, I thought, she loves this headband. She pushed it back towards me, "I know how much you love this headband," she said. Wow. little did she know it was really the person underneath the headband that I loved so much. It's awkwardly shaped, and doesn't quite fit on my head. The fabric hangs loosely over the sides making my ears stick out like nobody's business, and the grooves at the end dig into my head enough to hurt. But this headband represents the selfless love of a best friend--that, despite the language barriers, changed my life and how I viewed myself. To her, I was a small part of an adventure--but to me, she will remain unparalleled. She is someone I will never forget. My big, Japanese sister.
This picture was taken about a week before she left. We drove up to Woodburn to meet *our* family for lunch. My parents, she considered her American parents--my brothers were her brothers. After lunch, she and I went shopping at the outlet mall so she could get some presents to bring back to her Japanese family. As we walked from store to store, arm in arm and laughing all the way, she looked at me and said, "this is what I always wished," I asked her to clarify, "walking around, shopping with an American sister...being girls. It was my dream."
Little did I know, it was my dream too. I always wanted a sister...
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