Holy smokes, it’s been very hard to keep my routine lately.
With COVID’s challenges being dynamic and it being a busy time of the year for my business, I am beset with frequent interruptions and each one tends to nudge distractible me off in a different direction. I haven’t had to leave Mons Domus much, but it feels as if I might as well be at Disney World or the Seattle Aquarium some days.
The most unifying forces in my life are the animals. The routine of the starlings, canary, and dogs, coupled with the joys of watching the wild birds serve as gentle tethers, drawing me back to where I need to land, and for this I am grateful.
I’ve decided that for the time, it’s best to enjoy my morning coffee while studying latin, instead of skimming the news. Skimming invariably turns to reading, and clicking, and sometimes getting fired up about things that I really don’t need to be fired up about.
Painting is quickly becoming a reliable way to process my contemplations on nature, and preserve them in spirit. I enjoy the process, and it seems to be a space-efficient activity. I’m using canvas mounted on board, which compared to sculpture takes up very little space for both materials, work, and storage of finished work. As an act of communication, the response of others to my work is important, and so far, the response has been in line with what I had hoped- effectively communicating the ideas and feelings that I had in mind. I should work painting into my routine as I do music.
I recycle most everything I can, and if I am in a cycle of consumption (as it seems I have been since setting up Mons Domus, then the pandemic), recycling, composting, preparing and sorting for donation and so on is a substantial chore that I need to accommodate for. I would be best if I could simply reduce consumption, and that is indeed one fundamental goal of this monastic experience. The flux of cardboard through here is nothing short amazing for one person. Other recycling goes into 6 bins outside, which with the incessant snow we’ve had, need digging out a few times a week so I can lift the lids without filling the bin with snow.
Seems every box comes stuffed with not only the ordered goods, but with copious paddings, peanuts, partitions, and immobilizing wads. I received a hurdy gurdy from Crimea this past year that was packed with less accompanying crap than my weekly box of vegetables. I’m ranting now. I’m sorry, but not sorry enough to edit this out.
In summary, maintaining my routine is an ongoing issue. I still get plenty of solitude, but it seems that my stride- my flow- is broken all too frequently.
Something to work on is all.
Peace.