I wish I could say I was making progress. But you know, I don’t think I am. It’s one thing to know one should harden one’s arms for a better workout, or slow down, or engage in holy discovery, or begin again. It’s even harder when one knows that there’s an entire year of self-discovery behind you, and you could just mine the data banks for what you were doing this day last year in the cycle.
And when you read that last entry in particular, you discover you’ve been struggling with the problem of hard and soft all along. It’s been the thing that’s been eating at you for a year. And you’ve made very little progress on that issue. It filters into your design work, your teaching work, your learning work, your spiritual work, your eating habits, and so on. It’s in the water, and you’re a fish: you’re so close to it that you can’t see it. What a surprise!
I didn’t have a bad workout today. A little damp under the arms — a little sweaty. But not a LOT sweaty, not like a few days ago. But I didn’t have an awesome workout either. And this appears to be the real challenge of the work — this work, or any work like it — can you do it at a level where it’s empowering and strengthening without being too much of a burden on your life?
Or is it simply so compelling that it must become your life?
After Wednesday’s little adventure with the alarm clock, today (though I had no more sleep than usual), I woke with a bang before the alarm even went off. Up and at ’em, essentially. I was moving in a tai chi-like way before I even got to the Spar Oom in my house to do the forms. And yet, once I got there, I wasn’t able to do the forms as forcefully or as hard as I intended to do them. Knowing and doing are two different types of actions. And my body seems to be capable of knowing what to do, but not yet physically capable of doing it. It’s humbling.