Sabbaths In Colision
20 of 40
I am not Zen.
Work may not be a Sacrament, but doing is my mantra.
The downside of that is the machine that does the work is just a machine. It gets tired, sore and broken – and rest, which is not Zen, is inevitable – if somehow undesirable if not undeniable.
20 straight days of writing can make the task seem like an assignment: not a gift of silent thinking out loud. When something desired becomes required something is lost.
When you crank on a recumbant bike for 90 minutes at level 23 (Exercise Machine equivalent of 11) for 20 straight days things get a little tight.
But it’s mostly my brain that gets cramped in the never-abating think-work periods.
I hated breaks in practice as I was one of 2% of football players who enjoyed practice. The only other identified one was RUDY (you know from the movie). But in games, Half Time meant a lot. If I had done my job I was spent.
The validation of worth by work is a fool’s errand: but the errand gets done. Having said that there will be a break in this 40 part effort for two reasons: the brain and upper right calf needs some Gatorade. And I have a 15 hour day tomorrow that includes 4 hours on the ground in DC and 2 meetings back up here in Nutmeggia.
So this is no Sabbath, it’s substitutionary interposition of one work for another work in the working work way that I seem consigned to. 20 down, 20 to go: Half Time it is. I find no relief in rest unless it is the only way to proceed.
That is not Zen.