You're Doing it Wrong
The first true week of liberation from work-world duties has come and gone and I think I'm doing it wrong.
I've re-organized, re-arranged, re-structured and to re-view I have a mind map of 9 areas of interest which expands out into 50+ or so items of activity or exploration. I've tried to freeze it, for at least a month, but it keeps growing. It has slowly dawned on me that to really put all this "freedom" to use, I need limits.
It may not make logical sense, but I've been conversing with poets of late. I usually turn to them when I'm trying to figure stuff out and need insight. They tend to have some of the most subtle perception of conditions and the freshest ways of looking at things in new ways than any of the left-brain contingent (who excel more in how to do stuff once you've figured out what to do.)
David Whyte is the man, in this regard. And one could do worse than spending a few days with his counsel in Midlife and the Great Unknown where he speaks of Dante awakening in the dark woods or Clear Mind, Wild Heart and in both he gives insight below the surfaces, where poetry speaks revealing truths to those who know how to listen. (I'm still learning, but DW is a good mentor.)
And then there's this guy...
He literally popped into my dreams last night. I had one of those tedious dreams I have sometimes. Some people came to a party I was hosting and began threatening us at some point. It devolved into physical violence, and back and forth doing all sorts of painful stuff to one another, fueled by righteous anger, but also feeling bad about what I was doing. And it went on and on and on. Until this guy popped up in a shelf in the corner of the room. Just for a moment. A big, chubby, golden, grinning Buddha. Suddenly it was like the clock turned back to the beginning of the party. The small group I was in, involved with the conflict, all realized time had been set back, but the original troublemakers did not. We greeted them cordially, wished them well, and they went on their way this time, none the wiser to how things had unfolded previously.
And so today, with coaching from the bards and a flash appearance from chubby B, I added one more task to my map of time-binding. Bumped it to the front of the list and am now studying the how-to of The Power of Less. Tripped across this in the same day or so; things sometimes happen in threes. And this interesting character, from a suspiciously similar situation, is providing serendipitous insight into what I was doing wrong. Totally makes sense. Next week will tell what I learned from starting over.
Oh yeah, and I stopped on the way back from the bookstore with bright-eyes to have a root-beer float. If I don't go running tomorrow, I may just start looking like Mr. B.
I've re-organized, re-arranged, re-structured and to re-view I have a mind map of 9 areas of interest which expands out into 50+ or so items of activity or exploration. I've tried to freeze it, for at least a month, but it keeps growing. It has slowly dawned on me that to really put all this "freedom" to use, I need limits.
It may not make logical sense, but I've been conversing with poets of late. I usually turn to them when I'm trying to figure stuff out and need insight. They tend to have some of the most subtle perception of conditions and the freshest ways of looking at things in new ways than any of the left-brain contingent (who excel more in how to do stuff once you've figured out what to do.)
David Whyte is the man, in this regard. And one could do worse than spending a few days with his counsel in Midlife and the Great Unknown where he speaks of Dante awakening in the dark woods or Clear Mind, Wild Heart and in both he gives insight below the surfaces, where poetry speaks revealing truths to those who know how to listen. (I'm still learning, but DW is a good mentor.)
And then there's this guy...
He literally popped into my dreams last night. I had one of those tedious dreams I have sometimes. Some people came to a party I was hosting and began threatening us at some point. It devolved into physical violence, and back and forth doing all sorts of painful stuff to one another, fueled by righteous anger, but also feeling bad about what I was doing. And it went on and on and on. Until this guy popped up in a shelf in the corner of the room. Just for a moment. A big, chubby, golden, grinning Buddha. Suddenly it was like the clock turned back to the beginning of the party. The small group I was in, involved with the conflict, all realized time had been set back, but the original troublemakers did not. We greeted them cordially, wished them well, and they went on their way this time, none the wiser to how things had unfolded previously.
And so today, with coaching from the bards and a flash appearance from chubby B, I added one more task to my map of time-binding. Bumped it to the front of the list and am now studying the how-to of The Power of Less. Tripped across this in the same day or so; things sometimes happen in threes. And this interesting character, from a suspiciously similar situation, is providing serendipitous insight into what I was doing wrong. Totally makes sense. Next week will tell what I learned from starting over.
Oh yeah, and I stopped on the way back from the bookstore with bright-eyes to have a root-beer float. If I don't go running tomorrow, I may just start looking like Mr. B.
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