I had an über-efficient day yesterday and even last night when I came home. I’ve started an organization project at Nile (basically to organize the whole office). I’ve started a new DailyOM course, and I did the first session last night. I’ve started a Coursera course called “Know Thyself”, and even if I haven’t started the lessons yet, I’m excited. Andrew is doing it with me. And of course, so are you.
My diary-schedule-organizer is so full. Crammed with notes scribbled from Cloud Atlas, with business cards and wonderful list-style post-it notes. Reminders, thoughts, ideas. I was going to write an entry this morning on my series of notebooks, but my diary right now is all of them combined. It feels full, because life feels full. And that’s such an incredible feeling.
This morning, I have taken my white coat and 5 sweaters to the dry cleaner’s, picked up train tickets for StAnza this weekend, walked to Lakeland Kitchen Supplies to pick up the new drawers and shelf dividers for Nile tomorrow, planned my goals for today, mental prepared what I’ll wear to work tomorrow, and what to pack for StAnza this weekend. Also, picked up milk. Then I came home and sent another email to Mark Doty. We’re meeting for coffee this weekend in St. Andrews because he is generous and I am sometimes courageous. I’m going to call my mom, and then get dug into the work that I have layed out for the rest of the day. I feel like I should make a schedule, but it’s not overwhelming. It feels productive. I know I’ve often felt limited and constrained by to-do lists, but this feels like everything is getting the attention it needs. My responsibilities and tasks feel cared-for. I am present and mindfully completing them.
While saying that, let me put the laundry in so that it can start its cycle while I work.
Two songs have caught me this week. The first: Justin Vernon – A Song For A Lover of Long Ago. I’ve heard it before, but it came into my head again when my iPod was on shuffle, and I couldn’t get those haunting repeats out of my head: I have buried you/Every place I’ve been/You keep ending up/In my shaking hands… You keep ending up/Every place I’ve been/In my shaking hands/Every place I am. Mournful. Haunting.
The second: a new song from Rachel that I can’t even begin to pronounce. What I love so much, besides the music and the video and the way the two combine, are the comments underneath: “It makes me feel as a redemption song.”
“Nothing is important like this.”
A swing, a wide berth, from grief to hope, and yet I know too well this is the course of life. Summarized perfectly in the reading for my DailyOM class yesterday:
If we stopped this rhythmic dance [between light and dark], this infinite cycle of contrast, we’d stop creating. We’d be on a flat line (like death) and the universe would stop. Which is all impossible anyway, because energy cannot be created nor destroyed (a scientific fact). It can only be transformed.
The darkness propels us toward the light with much intensity. Being in the depth of what you don’t want births new and very strong desires for what you do want, causing you to reach for your desires with intensity. Darkness causes you to become a much more powerful creator of light.
I also had time this morning to watch the new episode of “Smash”: the backstage life of a broadway musical. It reminded me how thankful I am for the moments in which I feel my soul align; in music, in poetry, in passion and drive and movement. I’m slowly working my way back to that alignment, but I can see some of it already. This song still stirs my heart. It keeps unfolding.
Good morning, T. The world is bright.