Now my problem is named, I spend too much time in survival mode.
I have learned there are the things you love, and the things you must do to support the things you love, and the things you should not do, or should not do too much of as they are not in your best interest. If you diagram these, you can learn a great deal.
Mayhew has three tiers but I would have a fourth, between the lowest and the middle tier, where I do the things I must do in order to enable myself to do the things I really must do. That additional tier is the survival mode tier. I am forced to spend some time in it, but I am also trained to see myself there, to think of myself as a person fighting for their life and not even thinking about rights … except to think, at a deep level, that the people who have and deserve rights are not those who are fighting for their lives.
I will see what all of these perceptions can do for me, and for us. How can we spend less time in survival mode, and off the bottom activity tier? Identifying them as we have done here is a good start.
Today I shopped for, but ultimately did not buy an item I will need. I did not buy it because it was above budget for me and I also did not fall in love with it. This, you will say, is a sensible choice: I gathered information, narrowed down, and resisted both extravagance and salesmanship.
Why, then, do I feel guilty? Because I am an academic. I am used to having to justify all time spent on anything either by saying it was absolutely necessary, or it was recreational. In this case the effort was not recreational, yet I have nothing to show for it, and I fear it may qualify as an instance of that sin of all sins: procrastination.
All of this insistence on time and money, how time is money, is some modern trip. Budgeting time, saving time, hurrying, waiting. If you had used your time better, you would have proved you were more intelligent, or more virtuous, and it would have led to Production. It is so non-meditative, and it works so hard against joy and the real work.
The work I am doing is not mine, and this greatly irritates me.
Filed under Banes, Working
Another thing I hate is composting. It is one thing to do it outside but I hate kitchens with a nasty tub of compost by the sink and another nasty fermenting compost pail. People wonder why I do not cook and eat out but it is because I do not like the smell of this stuff. In addition, usually the houses in which composting is done are also dusty and cluttered, and their inhabitants, self-righteous and moralistic. It is such an awful atmosphere, composting, and I am not a hippie. Down with farmers’ markets, down with yoga, down with bicycles and Caltrain, down with sensible shoes, I hate them all, and I-280, and women who don’t wear makeup, and chlorinated pools.
Filed under Banes, Poetry
This is a New York Times article worthy of study. There is a marvelous quotation from H. Clinton on Qaddafi: “We came, we saw, he died!” and much else in the piece.
I would have loved to visit Libya. And Iran and other places.
I just threw out a poster I had had since I was sixteen and that was for me a sign of self and home. It had a marvelous red and yellow image and said:
NATIONALMUSEET I BREDE
Tirsdag og torsdag aften 19-22
I did not want to get rid of it but it had just become all too raggedy. I am sad.
I also have rare posters from Santiago de Chuco, Peru, of which I am not enamored and that I would like to divest myself of, but they are not raggedy.