This morning I'm grateful for the friend in my life who listens to me each morning. We talk about how to remain and continue to be truth-seeking spiritual beings while in this human existence. He has been self-employed most of his life, and in the past several days, he has been a rock for me as I navigate honoring the responsibilities of my craft while remaining true to my time and the other parts of my world which require their own nurturing and care. It's true what they say about writing: you can't edit your own work. When he and I were first discussing this, he asked why not, bringing the simple truth into the light for examination. I'd never put it into words before, and I was grateful for the opportunity to understand this core piece more thoroughly: Because in the same way that you can't know what the back of your hair looks like or what color your eyes are until someone tells you, you can't edit your own work. Instantly this made sense to him, but -- more importantly -- it helped me know the concept, not just repeat the axiom.
The next two weeks is a whirlwind of medical and legal appointments, culminating in court next Friday. Everything is moving forward by baby steps, and that's some good news, friends.
I went on an electronics fast starting Thursday afternoon. I only meant to go for 24 hours, but it's been brilliant, and I have no idea when I'll go back. I visited a friend in person, socially distanced in her front yard among the flowers. I felt like a person.
I'm reading a book for class that's so good I'm taking a gajillion notes, and it's slowing me down for now, but man it's worth it. Becoming Dad, by Pitts. Also, I'm supposed to be reading Book 3 of The Republic. Yep, might get to that sometime this week.
I finished one Knitting project (a lace scarf for a friend) and began another ( a blanket for Vivian). The roof leaks in three places and I called the management company, who sent someone today to look at it.
