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9.1.02 Catching Up

If I don't keep writing, I'll loose whatever "voice" I've gained in this journal... and my audience. But I can't seem to settle my thoughts to record anything more than once a week.

I'm "on vacation" since Wednesday till 9/9. We were supposed to be on our way to Japan, but my husband decided that having his liver go haywire would make a more interesting journey. Who needs to skate across the surface of someone else's culture and ancient religious disciplines, when you can scour your own soul clean of a 50-year Ernest Hemingway lifestyle?

Ah, but that is J's story, not mine.

My new computer arrived on Wednesday afternoon. A distraction and an obsession. I keep thinking of a Flannery O'Connor story -- Wise Blood, maybe -- in which a constipated and dying old man becomes obsessed with the clogged sewage pipe behind his toilet. If only his toilet worked properly, he'd be okay. If only I can get all my devices reinstalled without annoying little messages... if only I can get all my software installed and working harmoniously... if only I can reorganize my cables, my disks, my documentation, my serial numbers... if only I can find shelf space enough to put everything away, I'll be spiritually, physically, emotionally okay.

Metaphor switch: Life is a river. It is supposed to flow on its healthy way between its proper banks. It is not supposed to wander willy-nilly or spill out uncontrollably onto plains and city streets. But sometimes life gets too full and we go running for the sandbags and the sump pumps. What a mess. But the river will find its channel again. It always does. My comfort is in getting the designer sandbags and arranging them just so. Whatever muck I have to tramp through, my Wellington boots have to look really cool.

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