“This is one more piece of advice I have for you: don't get impatient. Even if things are so tangled up you can't do anything, don't get desperate or blow a fuse and start yanking on one particular thread before it's ready to come undone. You have to realize it's going to be a long process and that you'll work on things slowly, one at a time.”
― Haruki Murakami, Norwegian Wood
I'm back to my normal 5 am routine. Sadly, no coffee; I'm waiting on a friend's delivery which looks promising, particularly as I've managed to retrieve my Aeropress from the office.
As I type these few words, I can, right above me, hear Alfie moving about — my wife is getting ready for work (she's a cardiac nurse) — and it won't be long before he bursts into my room, hoping, I'm sure, to get some attention. Yep, right on cue; here he is. Oh, god, I love him. I've had a few dogs over the years but he's the most loving, most attentive of the lot.
I've not read the news or scanned Twitter. As I've said a few times now, it's not helpful to me or my soul. It's not so much a case of sending me over the edge but rather it does take my focus off the present moment, which is much more real, even if, perhaps, I should be keeping abreast of the unfolding calamity.
But more than anything else, hence the rubric to today's post, I'm not rushing to do anything or go anywhere save keep on top of my legal work, write this post and read. In the mix, of course, is eating, cleaning and a bit of exercise but doing one thing (now) rather than thinking about all the things I should be doing or haven't done, feels much more real, more human than making another damn list with which to lend my messianic, heavy-lifting zeal to knocking out the park. (Lists I've found distract me from doing much more than making and remaking another list — ha-bloody-ha.)
Of course, this is just my way of trying to get through things. You may have a very different modus operandi, but if life has taught me anything — and I'm not very good at following my own advice — is that sitting with that feeling of anxiousness in not having done or doing enough is far better than constantly, and haplessly reacting to it. In short, to adopt the repose of a cat or something in nature and let the feeling pass, before getting back to the thing that's in front of me. Also, not being distracted by starting things that I know I'm not going to finish. That's at least one reason why I'm not trying to write another book because I know that my energies need to go into my paid work, being in service to my family and staying healthy.
What about you? Would you describe yourself as a patient person?
Anyhow, as I repeatedly say, it's on with the day. I've my sister-in-law's dog to walk. She and her whole family are in self-isolation. It's very likely her husband last week had Covid-19 and she's asked me to take their dog, Jeff, for a walk because, apart from going out in the garden, he's not been out for a week. I think the risks are very low, and in any event I won't go where there will be people. That's the beauty of living close to the Moors: there are always plenty of places to walk the dog, save that I need to keep a careful eye out for the sheep which are just starting to lamb.
Stay safe everyone.
Blessings and much love ❤️, Ju.