Still Zen... I suppose.

Yesterday was new comics day and ended up including dinner out, so I failed to meet my goal in the book... still hoping to finish it by tomorrow.

Which, as I've come to understand is indicative of my lack of understanding of one of the points of the book. Often the narrator will note that it's the journey not the arrival at a destination that is the most important aspect of a sojourn. Sojourn. Can I say that?

I just crossed over page 300 and realized that, whenever I'm reading a book, hitting the last 100 pages is always rather thrilling. I'm almost finished! Things seem to move quicker as the end is within site. And it's a great feeling. But completely contrary to what it is I'm supposed to be learning. Of course, that idea has been expressed many times in many ways... Most likely in fortune cookies. Perhaps ones written by Homer Simpson. Or perhaps not. But I'm not enjoying the journey. I want the payoff. And I want it now. I didn't want to go to Davidson. I wanted to have gone to Davidson. I don't want to write an interactive report for vacation days at work. I want to have written an interactive report for vacation days at work. Nor do I want to teach Sunday School. I want to have taught it. And that's probably enough illustration of that point.

How to get around that? To break the point from Zen & MM, it's focus. Focus on what you're doing. Keep your eye on the ball. As it were. Exist in the now. How many times have we all heard that? And yet it's so illusive. Especially in today's capitalistic more-is-better society. The idea is expressed in the book as "nonselfawareness." What sucks is that I only *think* that's the term he used. It was something very similar. And something rather poetic to describe the whole keep-your-eye-on-the-ball idea. I liked it. Just relax. The lack of selfwareness is illustrated by an artist/mechanic/scientist/whatever working on something. Some object. Some goal. The narrator insists that, to achieve Quality in the endeavor, the actor must lose the dualistic nature between himself/herself and the object upon which he/she is acting. That's, maybe, the most Zen thing I've stumbled upon in the book. "Be one."

How does one do that? I've got other books to read, dammit. I just want to finish. I've got reports to write... I don't really want to write this post - I want it DONE. And, shit, I've got posts to make - do I really need to write this report? And even, once the conclusion that I *do* in fact need to write this report is reached, it doesn't stop me from sending bits and pieces of whatever is left over of my consciousness into a million different directions. Which is bad, I suppose, for my work. And relationships. I can't count the number of times I've heard, "Are you listening to me??" Well, yes. I'm listening. I'm just also thinking about how to beat Cowboys From Hell on the Hard level in Guitar Hero. And about where, exactly, Megan's going to end up in the next issue of local. And whether or not I really want to do this whole City Council thing. Is it multi-tasking? Or, in a less sterile business sense, is it ADD? Or am I just that insecure about the present? Fuck, I dunno.

I'm certainly not trying to write in defense of my way of thinking. Or lack of ability to think. Or a series of apologetics as to why I can't grasp the concept of nonselfawareness. It's just difficult. And I think a lot of it is directly caused by society. Everything is so fast and so important and flashy and, well, transient. Don't miss anything! I've been trying, more and more, to live by the axiom that you always regret the things you didn't do more than the things you did do. In hindsight, that is true for almost every mark down the line. Not to say that I haven't made mistakes. Because I certainly have. And, of course, if you really look at it, that statement becomes difficult to process and very difficult to prove. After all, isn't every act of doing also an act of not doing?

Odd that I can feel so loquacious at this point in my musing after having read only a few pages this time. And perhaps that just illustrates another point the book was trying to make. When writing or thinking or attempting to solve a problem, start small. Want to find something new or original? Looking at generalities or trying to comment on large bodies of text will, almost inevitably, lead to repetition. I guarantee there's nothing I can say, in a general sense, about this book that hasn't been said before. But about a single point? A single point as viewed as only a person with my EXACT experience can view it? There's the breeding ground for new thought. In the details. And then build up. As with any path, a small deviation becomes and enormous gap the further you go from the original point of departure.

Shit. That last mess is meaningless. I'm going to go try to concentrate on the present now. And write a new report. Where would I be if I couldn't meld good old javascript and vbscript... Now if I just had an eye for color and design I could, you know... make more Quality.