Lightning Fast Kilter Adjustment
Really no idea what I would write on this blog this morning, if I were to write something but my hands were very stiff and sore when I awoke so it figures that the best thing to is to warm them up a bit before I begin my daily rounds of the compound and the pointless work that I enjoy so much.
I need to be here every morning whether I have time or not and after all, who am I to decide what my time should be best used for. I'm not even sure that I should be trusted with something so important as that. I'm kidding because what I do will make little if any difference to even my tomorrow. That's not totally true. I'm cleaning the shop, a little each day, like water eroding a canyon, I will have an effect given time, if I can stay true to the task.
Right now (meaning for the last 2 weeks) I have NOT received US surveys to illustrate from the folks in Tennessee. They are all busy doing other things I suspect, but soon again the inbox will be filled with work to do and they will all be in a huge hurry. So in this hiatus I am free to pursue other projects. I'm finding that spending a few hours each day cleaning and sorting the mess in the shop is very good for me. I have gotten away from such disagreeable things and I need to get back to what I can still do.
At night, when I lay awake, which occurs quite often, my mind will wander to places that I am helpless to resist and I will grind them down to a fine powder with worry. This is my great strength. To grind things fine. It is not a good or healthy strength, but it seems inevitable. Untended and left to itself, my thoughts will find something to worry about. I make myself feel small and worthless with worry. What I fixate on falls into the normal two categories, but I have trouble remembering those two bins when I'm in the midst of a self-sentenced period of destructive introspection. The things I can change and the things I cannot change.
I can change the shop and luck favors the bold as my beloved son reminds me. Like chipping a dinosaur out of a block of stone, I am slowly pulling the shop around and I once again will see my woodshop and my ceramics shelf. I'll be able to do small welding projects. The exercise equipment will emerge from the fog for use again and painting, plumbing and electrical supplies will shift silently to their designated places on the shelves.
Empty boxes and anachronisms will fade and disappear into large plastic trash bags and reminders of other lives I lived many years ago will emerge to be looked at and then put away or maybe even discarded. There's little in the past that I don't already carry around in my head in a more detailed and true form than the boxes of pictures with their meaningless negatives and all the mementos that once seemed necessary.
If the time comes when the past is no longer in my mind's eye, I'm not sure that holding old pictures and stuffed animals will be sufficient to bring me back to myself.
I'm depressing myself now and my hands feel strong and pain free.
Photo Cherry Blossoms in Tenshochi Park is from Google StreetView with Modifications by Jamal Masood (Google+ CuriousJM)