Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Am I really that daft?
I run. Monday, Wednesday, Friday and one weekend day I get a couple layers on, don the old ratty pair of ski mittens and an Adidas knit cap, and off I go. And shoes, don't forget the Brooks. 6.5 miles for most days, that takes around an hour. Blood gets pumped all about inside my body, and it seems my brain gets in on that action, because sometimes I get ideas. The other day something new (to me) struck my mind, that this process of writing, or any creation presumably, demands perfect present attention. I must be in the right now to write. Am I really that soft that it took me this long, some 35 years, to put that together. Further, this hypothesis perfectly explains the why behind my paralyzing fear of this thing. I believe that I fear the now. The disease surely eschews this mind state, of that there can be no doubt. Constantly my mind wanders from sore past to terrible dim future, and that is a diseased state of mind. But when the keys move, thanks only to my fingers, and so on right up to the neurons firing away among the mush, I come up with the next word, the next thought. This place, this right now may be the safest possible place for me to be. Either that or I'm currently putting off working on my 4th step again. Building an arch...
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Keep running my man. And keep writing. My sponsor told me that writing my fourth step was my chance to develop a relationship with God. He also told me that if I said the 3rd step prayer before I wrote, God would help guide my pen (I did it the ol' fashioned way with notebooks and pens). And you know what? He was right. God did guide me through that painful, tedious process. I wrote and dealt with things (with this crazy God that I don't understand except for feeling the results) that I never could have on my unaided will alone. Funny thing. I was in the now and the past simultaniously and learning about the power of a power way greater than myself. And for me exercise is a big part of the retuning to sanity equation too.
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