Sunday, September 30, 2012

White Space

A few months ago I re established my meditation practice. It was (and is) a non negotiable, peg in the ground practice that happens shortly after I wake up. However, it didn't start this way.

I would get up in the morning, make coffee, feed the animals and do some reading of the news and contemplate the things I'd like to do before getting off to work. Even though I'm an early riser, the progress of the clock hand would stress me out and even something as easy as doing a round of crunches or sitting still for a few minutes overwhelmed me. I would force myself to sit and then run out the door, hopefully with my lunch made and in time for my first meeting. This inner turmoil is completely invisible to the world because A> I don't talk to others about it and B> I'm habitually punctual when other people are involved.

I have a weird relationship to time in that I am keenly aware of its passage in terms of minutes, months and years. Unlike some who simply get lost in whatever they are doing, I can perceive the clock winding forward. Likewise, I also am aware of the passage of years and where I am in my life relative to how many I've accumulated. In short, I'm always somewhat experiencing a mid life crisis.

Saturday, September 29, 2012


I had to postpone the Go Live date of a project I've been working on for nearly 2 years. When I sent out the cancellation notice I received a bastion of emails from people I've never heard from in the past literally yelling at me for not including their distribution list--didn't I know that I was affecting their schedules and work blah blah blah blah blah?!?

Good Lord! The message I sent basically communicated was that nothing was changing and it was business as usual.

While reading all this my phone rang with an external number. I picked it up and some guy with a cop voice berated me for not including his distribution list and not reading the contents of someone else's email. Really aggressive, really loud. I just stayed quiet on my end of the line and finally said "well, send me that distribution list address and we'll include it next time, we done here?" I did my level best to control myself but I still ended up putting the receiver down a bit hard and muttering "dick" under my breath.

Friday, September 28, 2012

Back from Munich

Flew back on Monday after an amazing week in a beautiful city. When I got home I ordered a copy of Carnet De Voyage by Craig Thompson. I spent a little time reading it this AM. After being treated pretty nicely by French hosts (on a tour promoting his work as a cartoonist) he takes a trip to Morocco by himself. I could completely relate to his experience of loneliness, defensiveness and self loathing. Going somewhere where there is so much poverty and need and being for once "the alien" and never feeling good or comfortable or that there was any good reason to be in that place.