It is fitting that the Latin dissertare means "to discuss" and "to connect." This morning, I've been dissertating, discussing and connecting away, for almost two and a half hours straight.
The dogs aren't walked and Magellan keeps stepping on my keyboard, trying to get me to pet her, and I think it's time to take a break.
Usually, I'm in a competition with time, trying to get as much done within seemingly unstretchable periods of minutes and hours that yield nothing more than what they are.
But when I sit in front of the computer to dissertate, to discuss and to connect, time becomes a watery, shinny river that goes where I want it to go and expands at my whim.
That's why, when I'm dissertating, time ceases to exist and the dogs wait patiently for their walk as the morning turns into noon while Magellan, devil's cat that she is, does not wait patiently. Instead, she makes sure I know she's here by sitting, like right now, in front of my keyboard swatting one of my yellow highlighters, annoyed.
Darwin, also bored by my failure to throw his fake mouse for the 1,000th time, is yowling his woe somewhere in the upper reaches of the house (I'm ensconced in the basement office).
Alright, alright. I get the point.
I'm getting up and doing what I should've done two hours ago. I'm going to walk the dogs, pet Magellan and throw Darwin's mouse.
But when I get back, I'm sitting right here where I am and, like an alchemist, I'm transforming what is usually steely time into a sparkling river. And I will likely only notice that the afternoon has turned into evening when the impending darkness knocks against my little window.
2 comments:
This is the ideal. I am envious; it takes me a huge effort of will to overcome my reluctance to sit down to write.
Well, but I HAVE to get my monster finished while you are done with all that! And, you write daily, with much discipline and beauty, in your blog. :)
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