Shall I tell you a story?

Fulfilment

30/9/2011

There is an idea, I think, that happiness comes from fulfilment, and fulfillment comes from doing things as well as they can be done. It's not what you're doing, but whether you're doing it consciously and with the intention of leaving it as fully, perfectly, completely, even beautifully achieved as can be. There is also an idea that the task of washing up the dishes can be undertaken as a meditation. Set aside the mat, the cushions, et cetera, and fill a bowl with warm, soapy water. Let your mind drift (empty?) as the plates become clean.
    And I suppose set aside the instruction manual: a walking meditation is more likely to be a walking meditation if it starts freely as a walk. We make experiences finite by knowing in advance what they will be. Open the mind to the possibility that it doesn't matter whether there's a traffic jam on the M5 this afternoon. Perhaps an obligation is an opportunity seen from another angle. Et cetera. There are crows, songbirds in the trees outside the open door, and through the window facing me, the two small palm trees are waving. They give a measure of the wind: slight, because nothing else moves.
    All this, because yesterday morning I was up and out early to meet somebody who never arrived; missing these morning pages but in the event, getting a lot done that I wouldn't otherwise have done. Meeting Patricia to talk about the not-quite-imminent publication of her book, talking to her about her website, about setting up a PayPal account, about being able to sell copies of her own book from her own website; it was one of those "You should do this" conversations in which - yeah, it would have been a good thing if I'd had the presence of mind to substitute "could" for "should".
    And then - this serves me right - back home to a challenge. Talking about the conversation, the response "Okay, wise guy. I want to buy a book of yours from your website, and I want to buy it at 8pm tonight. If you're so clever about what Patricia can do, you do it. Then you can help her."
    And do you know - it worked. Several hours and a lot of faffing about with the "selling preferences" of the (never used) PayPal account I set up several years ago, and just short of 8pm, copies of the two books I put up were bought, with p&p added, and the order has come through. Now I have to post them off (I'm doing this properly, see above) and account the money back to Thingley Press. And yes, at some point I will unclick the "hide page" button on the page where you can find the books, shopping cart, et cetera. And add more books.
    And help Patricia. Or rather: Patricia Finney, The Poetry Diet, coming soon from Thingley Press.

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In a desk diary scavenged from a house of the dead, a man records his own experiences of the end times: what he has to do to survive; how he came to be marooned where he is; how he reacts to the discovery that he is not alone.

Over coffee, a young journalist gets The Message.

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This site is updated weekly, usually on a Friday although I might change that (again). I write it because (1) I like writing it and (2) I like having a deadline. More often than not, it works out as a commentary on the week just passed*.
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*Although I seem to have gone away from that recently. Normal service may or may not be resumed.

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Categories
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Riddle. What are you? You're a conversation!