Civic Satori

I spend a lot of time driving these days–back and forth between Greensboro and Chapel Hill with Winston-Salem occasionally thrown into the mix. Everything seems really simple in my car. I'm usually either thinking about my intentions (that is, the guiding principles of my life in general) or trying to just be (a kind of meditation on driving). I like the car, probably because there's no reason to second guess myself. There's never a question as to whether I should be doing something more important or productive. I'm not attached to anything. The only thing I can do is drive.

Sometimes I think about what it would be like to drive forever. Not like a truck driver who needs to get to a certain place by a certain time, but not aimlessly either. More like if the well-known highway between points A and B just stretched out, and my exit never came. I wonder if that's what life without desire feels like. If I took a long enough road trip, do you think I could find enlightenment?

Definition

screw-glue: verb. literally, to glue screws into place; to carry out a task in so rigorous and thorough a manner as to ultimately create problems for the undertaking as a whole; to overdo. He really screw-glued those dishes by wrapping each one in newspaper, bubblewrap, and then duct tape before boxing them up.

The term is derived from the process of permanently affixing a small post to its base with multiple four-inch screws and glue, despite the fact that it will eventually need to be moved.

Pre-hibernation

I've had a bizarre couple of weeks. Sometimes exciting, sometimes depressing, always crazy. There have been points when it felt like a lose/lose situation. I was just hoping to salvage something recognizable from the aftermath. But now it appears that everything is alright, and my worries are coming to nothing.

Worrying is something I've been trying to do less, actually. It's not terribly easy to tell the difference between necessary consideration and unnecessary anxiety, but when it's obviously fruitless, I try to remember to leave it alone. Of course that brings up the whole other issue of noticing a thought or feeling and letting it go, rather than just suppressing it. They say these things get easier with practice. Keep your fingers crossed.

As part of my efforts, I've been putting away the accumulated mess of a million unstarted projects. I invented these activities for myself, so why do I get so stressed when I don't make them happen immediately and all at once? Back into the boxes you go, crafts. You will not get done until I damn well choose, which may be two years from now. Or possibly never. So there! And as simple as that, I'm no longer worried about the wood I didn't refinish, the vinyl I didn't paint, or the books I didn't bind.

My mind has got other things on it, anyway. There are only a few days left of razing, building, cleaning, curating, and drinking before my little artkidcommune experience goes into hibernation for the winter along with the sleeping beauty of thriftstoreartmuseums. It's an unavoidably microcosmic, life-in-fast-forward environment, and there's nothing to do but be in it till it's done, apparently. I'll miss the campers when they're gone.

Pretty soon I'll be going to New York for Thanksgiving. Then I'll be looking forward to a wedding and seeing everyone over New Years. But right now, the only thing I want to think about is all the Nintendo I'm going to play. I love you, Professor Layton. I'm coming home.