Sachs Degrees of Separation

by | February 9, 2016

I watered the plants today. We have lots of them. Deb’s away for a spell and the chores include looking after the plants. I have a list that includes (first and foremost) the Budster. the little potato, the Maltese Milkball – all a.k.a. Buddy. We also have birds. And paths to shovel out to the street, to the shop, and to the woodpiles. I have to make sure scheduled propane and oil deliveries actually happen. And make¬†an appointment with the accountant so we avoid a filing extension. Shit like that.

The rest of the daily routine stays pretty much the same. Awaken. Light the wood stove. And never (ever ever) take it for granted. Heating with wood is simple as long as you follow this rule. Give the birds fresh water and food. Walk Buddy up to Wawbeek Rock (and back) after lunch. Take the garbage and recyclables to the dump on Saturdays. And also Рtake care of myself.

I pass these plants all day long, but the chore of caring for them is Deb’s not mine. During these two weeks, they’re under my watch. While watering, a rare feeling of calm enveloped me. It was pleasant to pay attention to something other than myself, or what’s at my bench, or what was on the internet, or what time I was going to ride the trainer, or what was on the internet, or even thinking about cyclocross. Very little occurs during my waking hours that doesn’t have some link back to my work, my persona, or my brand. For a short spell, I was taken out of my varsity team level self-absorption and it felt like a gift, one I’d like to unwrap more often.
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