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February 8, 2012 / C. Junger

Defining Moments

What are our ‘defining moments’, that is, those moments that make us ‘good’?  History would have you believe they occur in war or times of great duress.  Intrepidity.  Valor.  Sacrifice.  Those are the nouns that accompany our ‘good man’ into battle.

It could be so.  But what about in peace?  Is the good man at his best when watering a plant, teaching a child, or reading a poem?  When he cancels his plans because a friend at work called out and the job just needs to get done, so he stays on for another eight hours?  Or is it when he wants to help his daughter a little too much in the science fair project, but reminds himself that he needs to step back and let her work it out?

I haven’t had those defining moments in peace or war.  For my generation war is either far too intimately known, or a thing of pictures and movies – at best a vague idea and a topic of discourse.  Some of us fought and died.  But most of us just know someone who ‘came back messed up’.

Are we defined by whether or not we went to war?  Or is it just the day-to-day grind that defines us?  For the most part, for me, it is whether I decide to, despite being tired, sick, or distracted, look the cashier in the eye and say ‘Thank you’, because really, I hope she does have a good day.

April 1, 2011 / C. Junger

It starts

You can imagine my surprise when I found out I’m not a good writer.  Well, maybe you can’t since this is your only experience of my writing, but it’s like one of those dreams where you show up somewhere inexplicably naked.  You wonder, I ate breakfast with my roommates…and they didn’t feel like me being naked was worth mentioning?   What kind of messed up relationship do my roommates and I have?? And then you’re like, fuck it, I’m already here and naked, let’s get this party started.

Except with writing.  So I just decided to write anyway.  My writing can’t really get much worse, and it’s not like anyone reads these damn blogs anyway.  So, for now, my terrible writing can be our little secret.  All you need to know, if anyone ever asks, is that I make words happen.