Nancy's Musings

Once upon a time I was interested in having some G-rated fun, so I signed up for Mutual (Tinder for Mormons) and sort of let the universe know that I thought dating men might not be such a horrible idea. I'm an extrovert already, so it's not a huge stretch. I live in a small town, and am a member of a religion that has some strict dating restrictions, by the world's standards. But when I moved into this house, I sort of joined a family and circle of friends by default. One of the second-hand friends I inherited has been searching for vicarious romance for a while, and of the mission companions her husband still remains in contact with is another single man old enough to tie his own shoes, so to speak. She thinks to herself, "I should set them up!" "Can I give him your number and have him text you?" she asks me. "Well, yeah!" I said, "He sounds awesome!" She did, but he didn't. Years passed, and I fell in love with some...

In a meeting of the department I have lately and hesitantly joined, our department chair shared a poem with us that moved me deeply. I sent it to a close friend of mine, but his response was at best, dismissive. He acknowledged that it was a poem and that he understood most of the words. I was suddenly at a loss. Poetry often moves me, and this poem particularly brought hope and a vision of what we could become. Poetry, at its most common, expresses moments that people connect through. They talk about the mundane, the familiar, or the utterly foreign, but in such intimate terms that we identify in words not just a list of emotions, but a common humanity: not common in the sense of ordinary, but in the sense that it is shared. I wanted so badly to share this moment with someone who has listened patiently to me for years. I thought that certainly we could meet through this mirror. He does experience physical symptoms that sometimes disconnect him from people, and perhaps that is one ...