Today has been a long one. I have been at the computer all day and will be at it again for several hours tonight.
I wish I could say I was doing it to finish writing my dual volume book of Haiku I have been working on, or some other piece of literary output. Instead, because of my own egregious error, I have been trying to contact people via e-mail and voicemail about a ministry scheduling need I should have handled last week, and prepping for a different ministry meeting this week. Meanwhile, I am trying to clean up two roster lists for the first ministry where 70 percent of the data overlaps, but the other 30 percent doesn’t.
I may be exaggerating, who knows. It is possibly back pain talking. I have terrible posture on top of it all.
My new personal trainer will not be happy with me that I have not yet added the Malic Acid to my diet that we talked about in our initial meeting on Thursday. He has a degree in Sports Medicine and works with a lot of people with physical limitations like myself. I am hoping he will give me credit for buying organic bananas and bringing that and a liter of water to my first workout tomorrow.
Jesus is probably not happy with me either. I promised I would spend time and prayer in relationship with Him this morning as it was woefully lacking last week. Then my ministry madness set in. I can only hope He understands it is for His vineyard that I have been plugged in and tuned out all day. I wonder if there is a special dispensation the Church offers for this?
On the plus side, Ancestry DNA informed me they received my saliva sample. Perhaps by Christmas I will know what my true ancestry is. My birth father’s identity turns out to be a bigger mystery than was previously known to me until I was nearly 30. I am fairly certain of the English and “Pennsylvania Dutch” that is part of my birth mother’s heritage. With a last name like Huntzbarger, there is little doubt about Great Grandma Blanche’s lineage. I am not sure about the “Wasson” on another side of the family, though. Is it Irish? German? English? French? Welsh? Scottish? I haven’t been able to find any country of origin for that one.
Meanwhile, busier days have meant less time on Twitter, so instead of Trump stress I am dealing with the more self-imposed kind. I did read a wonderful article on Twitter from the “Paris Review” about short story auteur and poet Grace Paley. She had some wonderful words about being a writer.
The great W.H. Auden told her at a young age that “If you’re a writer, you’ll keep writing no matter what.” As her writing output has seemed as peripatetic as my own over the decades, I am encouraged. I am not too late to continue a party I started as a child.
I also loved that she said “Write what will stop your breath if you don’t write.”
Of writing during times of political turmoil, she noted that writers don’t “set out to oppose authority. In the act of writing, you simply do. Your job, your reason for writing, is to uncover what the state and the conventions of your town normally hide. That’s why you want to write. To tell what hasn’t been told.”
Now that makes me feel so much better that my start in blogging turned political so much more quickly than I had intended.
Well, this one is short, but sweet. One organic banana and ¼ liter of water down; still much to do. Including a bath before a 7 pm meeting this evening at Church.
Just enough time to lie on the couch for a bit and peruse the article I saw on Margaret Atwood. Wonder how her thoughts on writing will compare to Paley’s?
Stay tuned. If we don’t nuke North Korea before I get back to the computer, I will let you know.