Waiting
Well, I'm here at the Grind. I'm basically just staring at the walls (they're kinda scratched up) even though I brought a lot of books. I brought my NKJV Scofield Study Bible and my Jon Courson New Testament commentary and my Automotive Mechanics textbook. I had and have even now specific plans to read each one of them for an extended period of time, and to make use of the internet for research in different areas; but as you can see I've found myself doing this.
I guess it's not a terrible thing in itself; but what is pretty terrible is the fact that I may end up wasting about three hours just sitting here, and end up doing only twenty minutes worth of actual reading/studying of these things I wanted to study. And when I have to leave, I'll find myself dwelling on it all day and hopelessly planning for the next time I get a chance to read; and telling myself why I might actually finally get something done, or finally grasp the aspects of reality that I'm trying to grab hold of.
I suppose the problem is that I involve myself too much in this activity of trying to make things happen - whether concrete or abstract - and convince myself that some kind of progress towards something has been made in this little time I have which will stand out later in my memory more than the other parts of the day that weigh on the back of my neck until they just about pull my head off. Those parts of the day kinda suck. But in other words I'm taking each day individually and trying to appreciate and emphasize the parts that seem worthwhile, which are pretty few.
Oh well, some days are better than others I suppose; but most of these particular days feel pretty useless. But, of course, feelings - despite what they can tell us about ourselves - are not the ultimate reality. In fact they're pretty much usually incorrect in my experience. You can't trust your senses and you can't trust your feelings for objectivity. There must be something deeper, mustn't there?
I guess it's not a terrible thing in itself; but what is pretty terrible is the fact that I may end up wasting about three hours just sitting here, and end up doing only twenty minutes worth of actual reading/studying of these things I wanted to study. And when I have to leave, I'll find myself dwelling on it all day and hopelessly planning for the next time I get a chance to read; and telling myself why I might actually finally get something done, or finally grasp the aspects of reality that I'm trying to grab hold of.
I suppose the problem is that I involve myself too much in this activity of trying to make things happen - whether concrete or abstract - and convince myself that some kind of progress towards something has been made in this little time I have which will stand out later in my memory more than the other parts of the day that weigh on the back of my neck until they just about pull my head off. Those parts of the day kinda suck. But in other words I'm taking each day individually and trying to appreciate and emphasize the parts that seem worthwhile, which are pretty few.
Oh well, some days are better than others I suppose; but most of these particular days feel pretty useless. But, of course, feelings - despite what they can tell us about ourselves - are not the ultimate reality. In fact they're pretty much usually incorrect in my experience. You can't trust your senses and you can't trust your feelings for objectivity. There must be something deeper, mustn't there?