Our DSL woes are hopefully (cross your fingers) over now. There was a short in the wire, and so even when it was “fixed” before, the problem kept recurring. This house has been around a long time, and the wire may have been old or damaged somehow.
The repairman delicately suggested that it might have had a “rodent” nibbling on it under the house. Knowing Leo’s predilection for small-animal destruction, though, I’m pretty certain we’d have long since been made aware of any resident rodent populations.
Anyway, that was weird. Several days without internet access, which was just enough time to realize I spend too much time online now — and not enough on the regular, everyday writing. It’s so funny when you realize I began a blog, and got into blog reading (and from there the whole online world), all as a result of wanting to build my writing confidence. I was an extremely disciplined, but private writer, who churned out page after page for no one to read.
Now that I’ve gotten used to a regular audience, my daily writing discipline has evaporated. Can I have both? Probably. But in moderation.
On Wednesday, I finished up the last of the freelance work in my backlog, so that there was neither internet access nor day job to keep me busy. I suddenly had huge swathes of time at my disposal. My pace slowed way down, and I had more of those deep, contemplative moments that make life so rich and deep and beautiful.
Anything I’d wanted to do, but put off because I didn’t have time, I now could do it. Paradoxically, I found myself choosing to do nothing most often. Or rather, the things I was doing weren’t the kind of things you could check off on a to-do list.
Stare at the wind ruffling the trees. Stand still at the kitchen window with the light off, just long enough to convince the shy goldfinch, now wearing his sun-bright mating plumage, that all is truly safe for a visit to the feeder. Have a nap while the soft music of the rain comes in through the open windows. Take a walk up the hill to photograph the towers of cumulonimbus clouds as a backdrop for the unfurling new growth of kudzu.
Cuddle the purring cats for far longer than usual.
Eat sugar snap peas barefoot in the kitchen garden, with the sun shining down hot, directly on the top of my head. Snap a picture to remember the moment by: two developing young peas, growing like crossed swords.
Of course, life does continue. There are dishes to be washed, errands to be run, and F.’s studies are ongoing. A new batch of work will be arriving at the end of this week, so this idyllic freedom is just an intermission. Still, I think it has held some important lessons for me in my year of focus. At the very least, week 20 has shown me exactly where the majority of my time is spent. This information is crucial for reevaluating one’s schedule and priorities.
Not that I did anything so constructive. Yet. Maybe that’s for week 21.
PDF 
