morning, already?
Jan. 20th, 2005 09:43 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
chelidonI am passionately, religiously, genetically (I suspect) not a morning person. Sunsets are grand, midnight is an ecstatic and magickal hour, 2am is a great time to do all manner of wicked things, but generally the only way I want to see the weary dawn is if I haven't yet gone to sleep. My confirmed opinion is that mornings are just fine and dandy, so long as they start sometime between 10am and noon.
But for a while now, I've had a small (but growing) delight, in the form of a child, who affects me, among other ways, by forcing a significantly earlier schedule than I would prefer. The school bus comes to the end of the road at 8am, whether we are there or not, every single #$^# day... I've adapted somewhat, but it's still wholly unnatural.
However, I've always done some of my best personal Work at night, and presumably, in the morning hours as well-- firmly plant an intent before I go to sleep, and let sacred dove and fetch hash it out overnight with thinking self largely out of the way, catch up and realign in the morning and see what's up. Sometimes morning is cleverer than the night, if still a thoroughly unnatural time to be awake. Of course, this presumes I'm actually getting some non-trivial amount of sleep, which is, at times, a doubtful thing.
So, despite too little sleep-time last night, this morning was a good one, from the perspective of reaping the benefits of the previous night's work. Some things I had been musing about suddenly clicked into place, I had a big section of plot detail and dialogue drop into my head for a personal project I'm working on, and a complex and very tardy freelance piece I've been struggling with finally took form in my head so I can write it out this morning. It's all about the audience, duh.
On the other hand, around the house this morning, accidents have been multiplying for me-- glass is being broken, things are spilling, little physical accidents all over the place. Nothing really serious, just enough to remind me to slow down and take it easy. So aether-space good, meat-space not so good.
However, per a pledge I made yesterday to someone who inspired me, I did actually eat breakfast this morning, and I am going to take time out for lunch, and at least a brief walk outside in the woods or along the stream at some point today, to feed self with beauty and pleasure.
As I was telling a lovely friend recently, I have discovered that my fetch has gotten quite adept over the years at dealing with my failures to pay proper attention to it, to the realities of being embodied. One of the effects of ignoring fetch is a wicked case of writer's block. If I don't give it juice, it doesn't give me juice. Go figure. Playing, apparently, is compulsory ;> Even this, I can and often do subvert, though, and guilt miself into sitting like a useless lump in front of the computer, getting progressively more exhausted, and thereby neither being productive nor having fun and feeding self. Perverse.
Speaking of perverse, yesterday I got to use one of my paid bully pulpits to publicly excoriate a $70 billion corporation for the terribly, woefully shoddy way they treated several thousand of their employees recently, and I'm already getting replies and ripples back that the words are having an effect, and perhaps making some small difference. There are times when it's a good thing to be a sometime member of the Fourth Estate ;>
-------
"Not vnto me the shame,
But to the shamefull doer it afford.
Bloud is no blemish; for it is no blame
To punish those, that doe deserue the same;
But they that breake bands of ciuilitie,
And wicked customes make, those doe defame
Both noble arms and gentle curtesie.
No greater shame to man than inhumanitie.
--Spenser, _The Faerie Queene_
But for a while now, I've had a small (but growing) delight, in the form of a child, who affects me, among other ways, by forcing a significantly earlier schedule than I would prefer. The school bus comes to the end of the road at 8am, whether we are there or not, every single #$^# day... I've adapted somewhat, but it's still wholly unnatural.
However, I've always done some of my best personal Work at night, and presumably, in the morning hours as well-- firmly plant an intent before I go to sleep, and let sacred dove and fetch hash it out overnight with thinking self largely out of the way, catch up and realign in the morning and see what's up. Sometimes morning is cleverer than the night, if still a thoroughly unnatural time to be awake. Of course, this presumes I'm actually getting some non-trivial amount of sleep, which is, at times, a doubtful thing.
So, despite too little sleep-time last night, this morning was a good one, from the perspective of reaping the benefits of the previous night's work. Some things I had been musing about suddenly clicked into place, I had a big section of plot detail and dialogue drop into my head for a personal project I'm working on, and a complex and very tardy freelance piece I've been struggling with finally took form in my head so I can write it out this morning. It's all about the audience, duh.
On the other hand, around the house this morning, accidents have been multiplying for me-- glass is being broken, things are spilling, little physical accidents all over the place. Nothing really serious, just enough to remind me to slow down and take it easy. So aether-space good, meat-space not so good.
However, per a pledge I made yesterday to someone who inspired me, I did actually eat breakfast this morning, and I am going to take time out for lunch, and at least a brief walk outside in the woods or along the stream at some point today, to feed self with beauty and pleasure.
As I was telling a lovely friend recently, I have discovered that my fetch has gotten quite adept over the years at dealing with my failures to pay proper attention to it, to the realities of being embodied. One of the effects of ignoring fetch is a wicked case of writer's block. If I don't give it juice, it doesn't give me juice. Go figure. Playing, apparently, is compulsory ;> Even this, I can and often do subvert, though, and guilt miself into sitting like a useless lump in front of the computer, getting progressively more exhausted, and thereby neither being productive nor having fun and feeding self. Perverse.
Speaking of perverse, yesterday I got to use one of my paid bully pulpits to publicly excoriate a $70 billion corporation for the terribly, woefully shoddy way they treated several thousand of their employees recently, and I'm already getting replies and ripples back that the words are having an effect, and perhaps making some small difference. There are times when it's a good thing to be a sometime member of the Fourth Estate ;>
-------
"Not vnto me the shame,
But to the shamefull doer it afford.
Bloud is no blemish; for it is no blame
To punish those, that doe deserue the same;
But they that breake bands of ciuilitie,
And wicked customes make, those doe defame
Both noble arms and gentle curtesie.
No greater shame to man than inhumanitie.
--Spenser, _The Faerie Queene_
