As the hours count
The day ebbs and
flows with the feeling that I am watching the waves by the seashore. Every
moment is a state of meditative contemplation of how each passing minute that
mounts into hours might have been usefully lived.
Then there are times
when the quiet, the idle and the void of nothingness feels cavernous enough to
swallow you in dispirited awakening, you ask whether a better day is possible,
even as you arrest yourself from despair.
Slowly getting there
Methodically and
sometimes painfully so, I direct my concentration to things I need knowledge of.
Things of which practice is needed to gain expertise and dexterity with good
recall towards informed comment and I am surprised that slow but steady
progress made.
Between reading, striving
through curiosity and discovery, and watching courses played back on my
television, the building blocks of knowledge with insight are being laid. Just
something said and many other things begin to make sense. Handwritten notes and
typed out comments on OneNote become the compendium the art and science of my
profession.
I guess the most important
thing on my mind is not work, it is life, love, and Brian.
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