Letters from Home: Friday June 16

The air cleared up from the smoke and that was nice, but now is heading towards trouble again, and will get a bit worse over the weekend. The midAtlantic region is getting a lot of the upcoming smoke, and even so, the mountains are as helpful as ever. I’m a little concerned about some periods Friday night and Saturday morning, but there’s nothing I can do about it except plan to be inside. Vivian and I are planning to go see a movie on Saturday evening, with possible dinner out afterwards.  I have an air quality app on my phone (it doesn’t give alerts or anything, which is a shame, but I feel certain something like that is being developed as we speak), and I check it before I go out. She of course wants to visit Mast again, and visit the barrels of candy. 

Acupuncture was great. My Uber driver on the way was the owner of War on Books, and we got to talking about bookshop owning and Industrial Society and how we have made our patchwork way in a capitalist world. He has an MFA in Poetry, and I started talking about how manifestos in general are some of the most overlooked specimens of persuasive writing — everyone wants to focus on the practicability of the ideas that are presented, and while that’s interesting, I really dig how any manifesto of any kind has to first and foremost be persuasive. I like looking at how the words and the whole work was crafted, like when did the reader find herself swept away by the ideas, and when did the writer lose us, and how and why was that — was it because the idea was too grandiose or too cruel or was it because the writer simply forgot to keep hold of our hand as we walked in this vision of a better world?

 

He was kind of blown away by the idea of deconstructing manifestos as persuasion, and asked if I wanted to do a workshop on that.
Of course I said yes.
We have no details beyond our enthusiasm, and that’s a lovely space to be in.

 

I told him I have a draft of a book proposal about Theodore Kaczynski, and how publishers for a long time wouldn’t touch it. He asked if we could talk more about it, since he thinks it would generate some serious interest now, not only because the man himself just died, but because the idea of the dangerousness of intelligent design is really hot, too, and this is of course the intersection of that.

 

And then we were at acupuncture.
Greg and I talked about things as we always do, and then also talked about how we are going to have a transition plan for my treatments while he’s out for a couple months in August and September. We’ll probably use Katie, not because she’s the best (she’s probably second best of the acupuncturists in Roanoke who are not Greg), but because she’s only three blocks away from the Loft. Greg said that he was thinking last year that perhaps we needed to add in a treatment acupuncturist supplement who can just “do the needles part” (this is called being a medical acupuncturist, while what he does is a full blown doctor of Chinese medicine) in between visits and on an emergency basis. We both think I would benefit from being able to be treated as soon as possible after those nights of hard sleep, or other episodes.

 

The treatment itself was really great, too.
And then I came back to the Loft.
I always find myself astonished that i am back in the workaday world after an acupuncture visit. Seems ridiculous, honestly.

 

I did the work thing, and nearly fell asleep at four, so I got up and walked to the roof and back and had a glass of milk, all of which helped. The release meeting went long since one of the operations engineers didn’t show and we ended up waiting an hour to make sure we weren’t starting an interdepartmental war by just doing it ourselves. In the waiting time, we ended up talking about the nothing things, including how amazing the 2004 Battlestar was and still is. 

 
I have read the remaining chapter and checked in with some of the responses for this half-week.
The video introduction is due tomorrow by midnight, which would have been true for my scheduled availability anyway.
I’ll probably do it tomorrow night, mostly because I hate them.
HatesThemWeDoes.gif

 

I have tea and knitting and I don’t know if I’ll watch something or just let the yarn be as fascinating as it is.
Life is good.

Loft life

Another semester is done and dusted.

I am looking forward to a few weeks to simply enjoy tea and curling up with a good book for fun.

Noodle Day

Using new software makes me anxious. You would think after two decades in Information Technology that I would face new software with nonchalance, but no. Quite the opposite is true.

Today I'm installing a new-to-me statistics software for one of my classes.

Noodles are the best answer to nerves, so I whipped up a batch of rice noodles in chicken broth, with strips of chicken, an egg, and some garlic chives.

Coming Up for Air

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. 

I'm almost done digging out. The tsunami which threatened to drown me has receded to high- wader stage. Academically as well as editing work, I'm making my way through.

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. 

Silence & Solitude

I've gotten into a bit of a groove with my weekends of Silence & Solitude, and I confess: I love them. Love, love, LOVE them. There is something magical that happens when I'm all by myself and I know that nothing needs me, and that everything is, in fact, far away and removed from me, couldn't make use of me if I had it. Days of Silence & Solitude have become little treasures that I give to myself.

Today's foray into the Realm of the Self yielded a slew of journal pages, writings, drawing, colored pens, the whole lot -- no focus at the outset, none needed and none found for hours and hours, what most folks would see (myself included when I'm in my linear mindset) as a patent Waste Of Time.

And then, after twelve hours of poking around, coloring like a little kid, making notes of randomness in the extreme on all the pages, wherever they seemed to fit at the time, some Stuff started to Come Forth. I usually know this is going on not because it seems any more important or meaningful than the other stuff that I have been scribbling down, but because it feels just a bit different. It tickles, tingles and is bubbly a bit and, often, I laugh. Well, giggle, really. It feels delightful.

And then there are the Things that show up as it all pours forth. Today, three proposals for independent study, one with a chaplain, one to create a foundation, and one for studies related to a possible presentation on stoicism and the community mandate (is there one?); two book premises (one about choices we make and the other about the power of gifting); a baker's dozen articles on real solutions for a mental health toolkit; a request to Amanda Palmer for some of her books to give away to folks who need them; the beginnings of a conversation with Massimo.

I can't exactly tell you how doodling about karma, the new moon in gemini, my upcoming Nerd Fitness challenge, a song from my love, the afternoon rain, the pending republican primary election had anything whatsoever to do with what came out. But there it is, sports fans, in all its glory.

Behold, the power of Nothing.