Pardon my slight crankiness this morning, but I've reached yet another impasse with my apparently unpublishable essay manuscript--this time involving a careless rejection letter that lumped my ms into a submission category I didn't even apply under. What is going on here? I am bewildered by the number of times this ms has been lost, forgotten, or misfiled. Probably I should just give up and let the poor thing retire to the dusty back corner of my bookshelf, where its shreddable paper and delicious ink can entertain a few generations of mice.
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
I am wondering why I am never satisfied to be doing whatever it is I'm doing. If I'm outside splitting wood, I think I ought to be inside working on my copyediting project. If I'm working on the copyediting project, I think I ought to be writing poems. If I'm writing poems, I think I ought to be sorting laundry. If I'm sorting laundry, I think I ought to be researching pieces for the anthology. Practically the only time I don't think I ought to be doing something other than what I'm actually doing is when I'm driving. And I don't even like to drive.
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2 comments:
"So the thing to do when working on a motorcycle, as in any other task, is to cultivate the peace of mind which does not separate one's self from one's surroundings. When that is done successfully, then everything else follows naturally. Peace of mind produces right values, right values produce right thoughts. Right thoughts produce right actions, and right actions produce work which will be a material reflection for others to see of the serenity at the center of it all."
--Robert M. Pirsig
Easier said than done. Sigh.
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