I'd rather learn from one bird how to sing
than teach ten thousand stars how not to dance

March 15, 2004

The Ides of March. Perhaps not the best of days for the undertaking of long-overdue endeavours, but that's the way things go. I've never put much stock in soothsayers and clairvoyants - which means I'll likely find myself with a gladius stuck between my shoulder blades one of these days... but not today.

I am not without reason for this lengthy period of silence, though the explanations I offer might not be all that exciting. There is the usual apathy and distraction, of course, but above and beyond this is that I've been given a truckload more reponsibility at work, and it's been taking more than a fair amount of energy. One of the perks is that I have a new office (of sorts - some might be inclined to call it a 'nook', a term with which I don't have much argument); setting it up and figuring out where to put things has taken more than a couple of days. In fact, I'm still at it. I only just managed to get all my files organized and put away this afternoon.

Not that I am complaining, mind you. The increased workload has me managing my time more effectively and I reckon this is the most productive I've been in months. It doesn't help that folks keep finding extra tasks for me to complete, but most of them seem to be aware that they might have to wait a couple of days before I can get back to them. Unfortunately this also means I have less time to respond to email (yes, I am aware that I am not that good at this anyway), so I'm going to have to ask some of you to be patient with me for the time being. All apologies.

All dull work-related things aside; how am I otherwise? Fine, I guess. Alive, but not really living; awake, but not really aware; alone, but not really lonely - I've hit a wall, landed in a rut, found a vacant box on skid row. As my good friend Chris put it: I have become frozen in an icicle of misguided complacency - and have been for some time now. It's almost frightnening how easy it is to just let yourself slip away from the world and cease to make any significant contribution. How simple to set up the routine and calibrate your energy expenditure to just carry you through the day - nothing set aside for the evenings, no battery power stored up for the late night brain, no extra juice to jump-start the passion lying quiet in my heart.

Perhaps most disconcerting of all is how calm and indifferent I feel - I've managed to carve out a comfortable little niche for myself just above the high tide line. For the moment, all is well: my feet are dry, I've got enough to stay alive and a little extra besides; but the first storm that comes along will find me up against the back of my cave, wondering whether it will be the storm or my air that runs out first. I've long been a proponent for living in the moment; I'm forever telling myself: "the past has already happened and the future doesn't exist - all I have is this endless succession of now". And I have to say, thus far it's a maxim that has served me well. I have no complaints about how my life has gone - in fact I daresay I've lived a pretty good one so far - but this philosophy places me at odds with the world, so focused on the thing rather than the moment. I used to believe that I was following the right path, but tonight, I'm not so sure.

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Oh, yes. In other news: this, this, and this.