Posts Tagged ‘Sarah Palin soul searching’
[This is the 2nd of a series of planned posts excerpting favorite passages from Governor Sarah Palin’s book ‘Going Rogue’. That title is, of course, a reference to campaign insiders’ fears about Sarah Palin going off the script laid out for her. But it also has echos of the recently wildly popular expression ‘Going Galt’ (as in John Galt of Atlas Shrugged by Ayn Rand). Real Clear Politics explains it all. Language Log explores the ideas around the phrase ‘going rogue’. Please, note that the passages cited here were not ‘cut and paste’ but hand typed, so, any and all typos are entirely those of this blogger. Errors here don’t reflect on the Governor or her publisher. First post in this series can be found here.]
To understand Palin, it’s important to skip around the book. In fact, to understand any biography or autobiography, it is interesting to go back and forth to get the full import and perspective. Few books of value other than tales for children can make sense otherwise. These posts about Going Rogue will therefore meander about the book avoiding both time line and page wise linearity.
In this post, it’s about faith and purpose in life.
Winter 2004 came and with it the unique blanket of darkness that covers our coldest months. For me it was a time of restlessness, the kind when you know in your soul you’re supposed to be preparing for something, that there’s something else out there, but he next open door is not yet revealed. I remember waking up in the middle of the night knowing there was something else, knowing there was room for more.
The kids were growing up quickly, and we moved through fun holiday seasons into the rebirth of spring. Track got his driver’s license, and I trained for a marathon. It was a very contemplative time, and I focused on my family while considering what I might do next. The longs runs provided me with the clarity needed to weigh my options. As the soles of my shoes hit the soft ground, I pushed past the tall cottonwood trees in a euphoric cadence, and meandered through willow branches that the moose munched on. A grassy culvert ran parallel to the road where I logged my long miles. On lucky days, my newly licensed sixteen-year-old drove the route ahead of me, placing water bottles at intervals inside culverts, along with notes of encouragement. “Run, Mom! I love you!” and “Don’t give up!” For any mom, it just meant so much that somebody would do that, especially a busy teenager. It was a great season.
All of that just sets the background of time and place. The Governor now delves into the matter on hand. Read the rest of this entry »