When i'm busy, though, my time spent reading the same sources on the internet has decreased significantly, so i've pruned things back. Facebook and Twitter are firehoses that COULD consume every waking hour: the short form is not engaging for me, though, so i am safe there. Now i can get through all my distractions.
I'm happy to say that i don't turn to the firehoses when i run out of distractions. I do watch myself reload, reload, reload. Has someone posted NOW? NOW? One of the things i know about myself in this state is that i'm not reading because i'm curious or want to be present with others. I slurp down words like someone binging on potato chips.
This week i feel i've been able to step back and observe my procrastination, and have compassion for it. I've also been HAPPY.
I am really HAPPY.
I find it a foreign state, but completely natural. And, in complete contradiction to calling it foreign, i wonder if i've been happy "all along." I think, part of it, is that the elephants seem to be more well behaved. It may be familiarity: ah, a stampede, well this will put a kink in our plans but ought to be wrapped up in a few hours. And i honestly think stampedes happen less frequently.
The issue i refer to here as "elephants" has been weighing on me for ages. I look back at my first entry tagged elephant, where i note that i needed to record how Christine's has an issue that was weighing on me for some time - summer of 2014. So i back calculate -- the crisis began in late 2013. So, wow, five years. And, as miracles go, i ceased reporting to my horrible horrible director in October of 2013. As i was coming out of my own crisis, Christine was entering her own.
So, the last time i used the tag "elephant" was this summer: maybe part of my sense of happiness is a growing trust that Christine's crisis is turning the corner.
So, in this happy state, i'm compassionate with my procrastination. Perhaps i've learned that sackcloth and ashes doesn't improve the outcomes of my productivity flows.
I'm also aware of my sense of gratitude: for my job, for our new home near family, for time with Christine in the morning as the winter sun slips up over the horizon.
There's probably some numbness to the national horror too. I've so much cognitive dissonance when considering the body politic.... I feel a bit of hope that we may be going through some cathartic vomiting of deep ugliness that has been festering. Maybe this is what healing the brokenness at the heart of the American experiment looks like?