It is Friday afternoon and I feel no inclination to continue work. Good, I haven’t taken a day off since that early January hangover. Will I be able to completely disconnect? If I work on the garden, for sure.

Wait, disconnect work with more work?

Work is when you stop thinking about yourself.

You don’t work when you sit at your desk in the office.

You work when you silence your mind and put your spirit to the task it has selected.

Because if the spirit has chosen to sweep the floors or wash the dishes, the mind intervenes and says when was the last time my flatmate washed the dishes?, and it poisons all activity. Should we be able to focus on sweeping the floors instead of playing drama in our head, our spirit would accomplish great heights.

Or if you choose to write a work log and then think “will this be of any use or any amusement to the reader?”, ah, the tricks of the mind, one is allowing his hand to happily type what the spirit yearns for, and yet the mind thinks it is doing the writing.

When the mind writes, my writing becomes contrived, planned, artificial. If I simply allow my hands to type, well, it might be a bit circular, rambling, but it comes off naturally and without pretension.d

But I am thinking about myself and yet this feels like work, ah, I identified what is going on: my hands are working. Indeed, if I stop interrupting myself trying to think what clever idea I will come up ahead, I can simply dump the contents of my mind.

I deleted a paragraph, because I quickly got trapped into a position impossible to justify through reason. But this is self-consciousness, sometimes I feel it is unfair to the reader: what I write is very raw, couldn’t I be more succinct? Again, interventions of the mind which are useless. Quiet. Allow the hands to do the typing.

The hands are cold and would like to get some sun.

Until next time.