MrsHughey.com

Binder Clip Land

I space off a lot. In a non-scientific poll of one husband, 100% of respondents agreed that I space off way more than the average bear - er, person. Today I was walking along Broad Street to the bus stop when I suddenly realized two people I know - MCR Prez Steve Ward and his lovely girlfriend and MCR member, Tanya, were saying hello to me. There I was off in my own universe. I said hello, tried to catch up with the outside world, but I think I came off as a bit gruff, or maybe just surly. I was pretty far out there or, more accurately, pretty far IN there.

I used to be really embarrassed about the spacing off, and as a child I was absolutely tormented about it from all angles. My family seemingly reveled in poking fun at my spaciness. Classmates and friends, too, found plenty to poke fun at. When I get a moment for my brain to wander, especially when I'm alone or feel alone, it just GOES. And something happens to me.

As a kid, my family called it, "The dumb look." To this day, it hurts to think about hearing that - especially when I realize how remarkable and wonderful these little "spells" are. I liken it to Tom Cullen's moments of clarity in The Stand. My face relaxes, my eyes go dim, and my mind - my mind is absolutely humming. I guess I probably look like I'm about to fall asleep or something, but I'm not dreaming. I'm not really even daydreaming, exactly. What I'm doing is creating.

As a kid in school, I'd get it sometimes when I had time to write, especially creatively. I'd get so absorbed in my writing that I'd suddenly realize the other kids had been staring at me and giggling for quite some time. I'd realize that my mouth had been all screwed up in a funny sort of pucker and, unconsciously, my tongue had slipped out of the side of my mouth or my jaw gone slack, as if every ounce of creative force and bodily energy had to be put into this task, this writing.

Now I call it "Binder clip land." That's a recent nickname and one I got from somebody who actually understands and appreciates the spacey side of me - my husband. Over this summer, not long before we moved to Oxford, he was trying to talk to me. I was completely spaced and happened to be ostensibly focusing my attention on a binder clip I was fidgeting with. Over the years, self-consciousness has helped me to somewhat tame the strange facial expressions that go along with my space-off experiences. After I realized he had been asking me stuff (and I had been answering without ever hearing the questions!), I said, "I'm sorry, can you repeat everything you just said?" He said, "It's okay. Where were you? In binder clip land?" I thought that was great - because I really expected him to be upset that I was spacing off instead of listening. But he wasn't. So now it's called binder clip land.

So where exactly IS binder clip land? What goes on there? You'd be amazed. It's this great big playground where I can create anything and try anything. When I am relaxed and feel alone I can create best, so I tend to create a sort of inner quiet and solitude when I write. I do this by either physically or emotionally separating myself from people I know. I might walk alone or go to the library or just put on some headphones and listen to music.

I have to feel like I'm alone so I can begin this sort of conversation with myself. I've done it ever since I can remember. I just have to start the old inner monologue and, before long, it takes over. I can remember as a kid riding my bike home from elementary school and I'd suddenly realize I was talking aloud to myself and look around to be sure nobody saw me. I thought some of my best thoughts that way.

Sometimes it's just a lot of ideas or images or philosophy floating around up there - musing about past, present or future. But at least half the time when I'm "spaced out," I'm writing. I'm actually, actively composing prose. I've done this literally since I can remember. I call it the novel of my life. I write in it probably every day - sometimes for hours. When I have a long wait or a walk or a bus ride, I'm writing it. It's an almost constant stream of words and I almost never edit them. Pure first draft stuff. But it's good sometimes, and I have always found a comfort and unspeakable pleasure in it. I have long imagined that when I die I will arrive in heaven and God will show me the great tome I have created in my mind for all these years. The cataloguing of all these trivial events - and the big ones, too. But it will be those countless forgotten hours that will be so interesting to relive.

So, now that I've outgrown making silly faces and feeling horribly embarrassed about being a "space cadet," I embrace this dreamy side of myself. It's where I create best and, if I'm ever going to be the writer I want to be, the side I must continue to cultivate and listen to.

Posted by Erin at January 3, 2003 05:28 PM