Editing

Write with fire. Edit with ice.

18 hours later

18 hours after the second vaccine and a blanket of fatigue has just cloaked my shoulders while also it feels like every joint is being twisted in exactly the wrong direction.

 

I took what was left of my energy and set a chicken breast to thaw, then chopped an onion. It went into a pot with olive oil, turmeric, black pepper, rosemary, and salt. The I added a half cup or so each red lentils and yellow split peas and let that simmer while I peeled garlic, chopped the last of the kinda wilty celery and the white potatoes that were left from last week's delivery. (The red potatoes are still keeping well, so they can see a different recipe soon enough.) I stirred it and let it simmer while I fielded a couple emails, then added just enough chicken broth to cover the whole mess.

The bottle of room temperature water seems cool and refreshing against my tongue that feels hot and too big for my mouth.

I'm watching a bit more of There Will Be Blood while I wait for the chicken to defrost. Is there anything more luxurious than the way PT Anderson languishes camera time on his actors subtlely? It's an indulgence.

Friendly Reminder

Thank goodness for my friends. I've been maintaining a sprint pace for far too long, and I'm overdue for a rest period. Academia has done away with Spring Break this year, and I'm feeling the lack way down deep in my bones. 

 

Also, there are just So Many Things that are interesting and exciting to be part of right now. The upside of remote-everything is that the buffet is open and one can pile her plate as high as ever. (Did I mention I'll be on the SAAP panel tomorrow? I will. I'm looking forward to it, but my Zoom-avoidance is cranked up to the max.) 

 

The latest mini-series will launch later this month on the APA Blog, and I'm excited about it. I'm also ready to give series development a bit of a rest. This one is about Technology and Philosophy, a topic dear to my heart. It follows Climate Matters, Genology of Philosophy, Philosophy as a Way of Life, and Recently Published Books author interview series. Along with the existing Black Issues in Philosophy and Women in Philosophy series, and my editing plate is rich and full. I work with some of the best people on the planet and I'm proud of what we are publishing.

 

I've enlisted Tank to be my wingman on burnout prevention, a position he's got a lot of experience with. Not a full day passed before:

 

Me: I can't wait for this term to end so I can do NothingWhatsoever for two months!! 

Also me: Shiny!!

Tank:

Definitely going to need to put this picture beside the computer.

Meditation Zone

You should sit in meditation for 20 minutes every day -- unless you're too busy; 

then you should sit for an hour.

Thinking of turning the second bedroom into a meditation room instead of a library. Not that they are mutually exclusive, of course, but one feeds and energizes the mind, while the other still and holds it in repose.

Editing life continues to be exciting. I have three special series in development as of this week, and five seven new books for the spotlight series I'm taking on. I've caught my breath with the classwork, I think; I'm about one full rotation behind in response papers to The Republic, but small steps matter. I should be on track to finish it by the end of the term.

Writing workshop is amazing, and my next installment is due in three weeks. Wow. I'm so glad I have this in my world again. 

The Universe loves me and wants me to be happy.

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. 

Home sweet home

I'm wrecked with the biggest push of the move today. Frankly, I'm glad I had already scheduled some blackout time from work, and had a lot of physical activity; RBG has sent me into active mourning.

Frak. I'm so tired. I ache everywhere.

The final drive from NC to VA (about 3 hours) was lovely this morning. It's officially heading towards autumn. I listened to Lenny Kravitz and Eastmountainsouth as I drove. Little Dog spent far more time in his crate than he thought was warranted, as friends and I picked through the storage unit and hauled a bedframe, desk, several tables and a few chairs in, piled unceremoniously in the living room. They all scattered once the heavy lifting was done, and I finally got the bedframe together -- this is not a one person job, and I couldn't find my toolbox, and and and. Somehow I have no pillows, sheets, or comforter. Whatever.

Last week was a crush of work items and meetings. It seems the universe decided to give me all that I asked for, in abundance. The editing position just expanded dramatically and I've been made editor of a new series in Philosophy. It has no name yet, and won't run its first article for a couple months as we firm up the details. The SOPHIA group is taking on a lot of new chapter development initiatives, and I'm the office in charge of nurturing it. Very cool, and very exciting. The Honesty Book looks like it will become a curated series that will see the light of day initially as a special series at Civil American (think Scientific American for Philosophy). Writing workshop went very very well this week -- there was a prompt that was just fun to write. There might be a year-long podcast to go with it. And of course there are still classes. In theory, I'm reading a book tomorrow and writing a paper on it on Monday.

The biggest news, though, is that I got to see Vivian, in person, at the therapist's office. I think there was some really good communication, and we had a lot of fun at the sand table -- she kept burying a jewel and making me uncover it. We meet again on Saturday in the park, weather permitting. I hadn't seen her in person since March.

I haven't begun to unpack boxes or arrange anything; my clothes are still in the footlocker; empty hangers are in the closet and I don't have a clue what it is I've missed out on in the rest of the world today. Which is fine.

I'm too tired to sleep, so I'm knitting a bit, working on a scarf for the wife of a friend. Everything aches (did I already say that?)

All is well, or as well as it can be just now.

Editing

Coming at you live from the intersection of Philosophy and Writing.

This happened.

Shaking loose

I feel as though some sort of log jam has shaken loose. After months of struggling on many fronts, paths are opening up and possibilities are starting to materialize.

Nothing is solid quite yet; I will update as things materialize. Keep watching this space.