The Missing Half

Kafka on the Shore yields a truly unique reading experience.  All at once, I feel incredulous about the events while I simultaneously feel a deep-rooted belief in the concepts Haruki Murakami presents.  From today’s discussion in particular, I cannot shake the concept of the search for one’s “’missing other half”’ (39).  This desire to complete our self can create a drive to achieve one’s goals; however, it can also induce a fair amount of anxiety.  Currently, I feel more of the latter.  Something about today’s discussions created this unsettled feeling inside of me:  Who should I search for?  What should I search for?  Who searches for me?  What searches for me?  Who cooks for you?  Who cooks for you?  Aaaarrggggghhhh!  This seems like a lot to handle!

Indeed, most people want to feel a connection—to someone or something.  You and I fall into this category; for instance, your blogs about cell phone usage and my own cell phone experiences present confirmation of this assertion.  Many of you noted feelings of disconnection that resulted in loneliness, anger, frustration, ambivalence, and even, in some cases, fear.  To me, the feelings of fear present the most provocative notion—that while we desire solitude at times, more often we fear others leaving us utterly alone and forgetting our very existence.  From the cell phone experiment, we see that this could surprisingly happen in even just a few minutes.  In my own experience, when I have a day when no one contacts me, I definitely ponder my place in the world:  Who cares about me?  Who wonders about me?  Do I matter to anyone?  How quickly could others forget about my existence?  Who cooks for you?  Who cooks for you?  Aaarrrgggghhhh!  In many cases, my cell phone exacerbates an already existent fear in a very dramatic manner.

On a larger scale, Kafka’s journey to discover his true self, his true purpose, and perhaps even his true mother and sister, also highlights these issues.  As such, it does feel like Murakami posits that life presents us with a constant search for the missing piece—the piece that will complete us, the piece that will fill the void.  In essence, we always yearn for our other half.  Perhaps the journey and the missing piece morph along our journeys, or maybe they never change.  Time shall tell.

Toot! Toot!

          Procrastination does not work for me; it never has.  Even as a young girl, when my mom would leave a list of chores for me to complete by 5:00 p.m., I would dutifully finish them before noon.  This intrinsic facet of my behavior drives most everything in my life; I would rather deal with issues and tasks sooner than later.  As such, imagine my panic last Friday when I remembered the paper I needed to write for graduate credit—due by the end of this month. Yikes!  Because the requirements called for 12-15 pages, and because of my jammed schedule when classes begin (thanks to the person who assigns all the reading), I knew I had only one real option.  I had to write the entire paper last weekend, my long weekend, the weekend I had saved for NO HOMEWORK.

          I have never produced that amount of writing in such a short timeframe.  However, I decided upon a revolutionary idea: I would write the way I teach my students to write!  Soon, I felt overwhelming anxiety and dread, feelings that inherently come as part of the writing process.  I imagine you find my reaction as odd as I do:  I love writing, and I write well, so why would I feel this way?  After this entire process, I have drawn this conclusion:  to produce a quality piece of writing requires extraordinary effort and fortitude and to produce a quality piece of writing quickly and efficiently requires a level of discipline unknown in most tasks.  Additionally, it requires copious amounts of coffee. 

          Much to my pride and satisfaction, I successfully completed the paper in three days.  Three.  Days.  That includes a Works Cited and an Appendix with samples of student work!  I learned that under such pressure, not only could I pre-write effectively, I could write well quickly (no passive verbs the FIRST time around).  Furthermore, I also came to the most important realization of all:  the way I teach you to write will make you unstoppable even in the most excruciating of high-pressure situations.  So thank you, my students!  Without you, I would not experience the push to practice all of these skills all of the time.

          Hey!  Can you hear that?  Off in the distance?  It’s me!  Tooting my own horn!

Side note:  In an effort to inspire responses, the first five people to compose solid comments to this entry will receive bonus points!