This evening I worked late on a big project, reaching a satisfactory level of progress. I lost my temper over something today, which I hate to do. My temper works best when kept in relative check. I got a bit of family news last night from afar that disquiets me a bit.
Tomorrow I finish one project, and then hop a plane to south Texas for a Friday court hearing. It's been a long time since I've been in the Rio Grande area, so I'm eager to go.
I feel as though a world of things happen all around me, some good, many bad, and I am just a sponge, absorbing all the facts and revelations. I drive, alternating between thought and prayer about things I can't do much about other than think or pray. A friend returned to me my CD of Be Bop Deluxe's "Axe Victim", which I'd forgotten I'd loaned. It has "extra tracks" on it, including the live version of "Adventures in a Yorkshire Landscape". I alternate between that and "Jets at Dawn", listening to languid guitar solos, singing along in my very best imitation of a Yorkshire accent, hoping for warmer times and happier things.
But when the sponge is full, I'm reduced to a kind of Dickens character, and I say something simple, like "god bless us, every one". Then I think of the tag to the effect that we must all be as kind to each other as if there were no God, because God would want it to be that way. I must confess, though, that when, as an alternative, I think of the words to the Blake poem about the new Jerusalem, I always hear Greg Lake singing them in my mind.
Tomorrow will be yet another busy day of important things to do. I'll reach into myself and pull out as much effort as I can. I'm grateful to have so little to think about in this life. I'm dismayed that I have so much to think about in this world. I think that all that anyone can do is try, and I'm looking for my solace in my effort. But sometimes, it all seems a bit heavy, even for a light-ish person like me. So I understand, I think.