We’re past the Summer Solstice, but the days are still long, and a thunderstorm has left behind some cool, breezy weather to accompany the lingering light.
I had some work to finish up this morning, but happily managed to spend the afternoon away from the UNIX terminal. Lots of dishes were done, laundry was washed and folded, and tidiness restored.
Time does fly – I’ve been playing guitar for over two years now. Like most things, I’ve improved with practice, and have progress to at least competent. In a move that still befuddles my inner 10-year-old, I’ve added a regimen of scale and arpeggio drills to my practice sessions, because just strummin’ isn’t pushing my chops hard enough right now. I’m still committed to making music every step of the way, and it feels very good to be at this stage, developing in subtlety and proficiency. I can still remember when I was incredibly clumsy, barely able to fret even the simplest chords. And there is so much further to go.
I ran across the magical Wordle, which creates world clouds when you input some text. It’s a great way to visualize things to see what’s important. Or just fun.
Here’s a cloud made from the entire text of Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice:
The joy of being a freelancer is that the workload is variable. This past week was incredibly busy, and I’ve been neck deep in code for most of it. The bulk of the current set of work is done, and it feels good to be at a resting point. As a bonus, I’m taking today off and doing my own stuff.
Let me give a small plug to OmniFocus, which was instrumental in keeping me sane and productive.
For the first time in my life, I’ve got contact lenses. I’m gradually getting my eyes used to them over the next week or so; it’s a bit unnatural to be sticking my finger in my eye, and despite my mind, my eyes have other ideas.
Being out in public without my glasses is very strange, but I think I can get used to it.
Damn, it’s hot. 94º outside, and a tad above 80º in the house. My studio has a small window AC, turned on to the lowest setting, so it’s tolerable in here.
I debated getting the AC for the studio for a long while, but finally decided to invest in it. I can’t think very well when it’s this hot, at least not the kind of thinking that’s required for PERL programming. In previous years I’ve solved the problem by escaping to a coffee shop on hot days, but looking forward I’ve got many weeks of potentially melting weather ahead and a schedule that doesn’t allow for heat escapes. Then there’s the question of having a client over!
Can you tell I’m feeling a little guilty? I promise to use it sparingly.
V and I went back to the rock climbing gym yesterday, took a belaying test, and threw ourselves at the walls for a few hours. I got to the point where I just didn’t have any more juice, and despite maximum mental will my body wasn’t going to hold on any more. Good times! I’ve now got a pair of vegan climbing shoes so I don’t have to step into parts of cow.
There is a fruit salad in the near future. I’ve got a fresh pineapple ready to be sacrificed in the kitchen.
If we pay attention, we can see that the line separating ourselves and everything else isn’t as solid as we might imagine. We are together with the whole world.
When it comes down to it, we are delicate creatures. We build up all kinds of psychic armor, and for a while feel so very solid and indestructible. But eventually, something gets through, the illusion collapses, and we are left feeling vulnerable and alone.
I’ve been thinking about Pema Chödrön’s take on this armor we cover ourselves in this afternoon. The problem with the armor is that it doesn’t actually work, no matter how thick and strong we build it, it’s bulky, and it keeps so much of the joy of the world from making it to you. A wall keeps out friends as well as foes.
Pema talks about the bravery involved in taking off the armor, and how it’s a slow process. We’ve invested a lot in our protections, and they don’t fall easily, even if want them to. We have to do it slowly, one scrap at a time. As much as we can bear, and then a retreat. I think that adults are afraid of baby steps. We want results now, to get to the end, so we can get on with our lives.
I’m more and more convinced that this process is our lives.
