Lent Day 5

Careful and deliberate breathing.

It feels almost unjust to record these days and responses, however it is not, and keeps me writing, which is also part of the bigger goal: the specifically defined life. I have not taken time for such quiet and focused contemplation in too long to think about.

I have read today of the Sybils and of Hypatia. I have considered cataloging and the ordering of the mind in its cycles and distractions. I have wondered of the wisdom of recipe-less cauliflower and cheese soup. That may have to wait. I am not so certain of cooking yet and still must wash many dishes.

I found myself staring at the radiator in the kitchen, sparking with the possibilities of its inner life.

The bathroom floor & the sink are cleaned as are the desk and one of the bookshelves. I feel a bit like the kid in the picture book I had as a child who only washed one part of himself a day and at the end of the week was still half dirty!

It is not entirely surprising that I've begun to sweep more now that I spend much more time than before in close contact with the floor. I see the crud and smell the air. it is a completely different perspective.

Four of the clutter-keepers I made have been emptied. One of them is on the ironing pad - pinned (bottom & lid) to finally take some kind of shape that is well-defined. I had fun making those bowls.

It is noted that there are still many sore spots in the re-establishing of certain habits. I am uncertain what to call my responses to them. I am not apathetic, nor am I inclined to anger or re-created hurt (that is to say: there is old hurt & the recognition of its source, but without addition) from whining or a sense of unfairness. There is some lingering dismissiveness (as, for example, my predilection for some kind of ceremony of tea) which I feel is as harmful as any other lingering resentment. It is acknowledged and I cannot be honest and say that any more is required. The soreness will pass away, as the soreness of muscles kept working toward the goal of greater strength and flexibility. The pain exists. It is no meaningful distraction. It is more than I thought it was, which makes sense: if I did not know how tense and inflexible my body had become, how could I guess at the same stagnation in my ego and my heart.

I stretch my reason and my emotions must needs reach out. It is good to be gentle. It is good to clean one floor and let the rest be there on a different day.