this is what it looks like here

This is the last post from the berkeleyblogs skinnytree
I thought you might like something familiar in an unfamiliar place:

maybe i never told you about the professor who taught my class on existentialism in undergrad so here is the whole story: he was a little west of middle aged, with plenty of white hair and he was one of the LaSallian Brothers who lived on campus with us. I don't remember his name but i do remember him leaving class to use the restroom at least once each session.
During a discussion on Heiddeger he excused himself for a moment and when he returned with a tiny flourish he picked up a piece of chalk and wrote the word mystery on the board.
once he knew we were all paying attention he said,
Take it from a celibate, mystery is everything.



when we moved into that last house
i swore i'd never move again
because i hate moving
but i hated other things about that life
more than i hate moving.

so now that it seems fitting to use the phrase
"the rest of your stuff"
about things, furnishings, wedding rings
i am warming to the possibility
that this one more painful part of the process is coming to an end and
I'm going to get it
get this
get it
wrong or right
i'm going to get it.

There are these things we say to one another and given a change in context, a change in place or face or space a simple phrase can mean different things: same words moving through the space between us, moving meanings impossible to pin down
Get it, take it
from me
take it, get it?
I got you
I've got you
right where...
I want you
Its all there,
get it, take it
one last chance to take it
take on
take hold,
hold it!
hold on,
I've got you.

hold on, I've got you.