Life at home has settled into something of a routine: arise to the book at 5 am, using the computer in bed until the battery runs down or I need a reference, then down to the basement (feed the cats on the way) to keep running my head against the wall of expressing my current (mis)understanding of coordinated fascial tensegrity.

The re-write of Anatomy Trains is painful, in that tiny additions knock on like a Jacob’s Ladder (like a tensegrity structure, like a fractal, like a semi-conducting liquid crystal array) to many different places in the carefully constructed edifice that was the first edition.

Consequently, as I go to tackle it, it is like a three-dimensional crossword puzzle (I love doing Will Shortz’ NYTimes puzzle every Sunday) that one must enter and get ‘at home’ in before any changes can be made.  With the telephone, email, snowstorms, and Quan’s animals, few are the hours where I can stay undistracted.

Distraction – traction – being pulled away – anything does it, even nice ones, and I retract afterwards, pulling in and being snarky to all and sundry. I’m sorry, but I can’t help it – I have gone from artist to autist, and I need – need! – the concentration to place this pitch exactly where I want it.  But in fact it is always a compromise, it will need another revision sooner than I would hope.  Why does it matter so much to me to get it exactly right, when few people will ever bother to read such an overwhelming mass of words?
I usually emerge, if we have power, around noon to answer the call of the business via email or phone, and then duck out with the cross-country skis to work up a sweat under the scarf and crackly jacket.  The coyote tracks and scat are everywhere – they’re on the move.  The two rabbits who live by the brook are still there – only once have seen them, but love to see their tracks.  Adam’s trapped the beaver right out of there, but the dam survives yet. Loads of sea birds still in the river – what do they do at night in this cold?

Back home by dark to light the fires and luxuriate in being with Quan, still very delicate from her jaunt to Mexico.  We like each other, so it’s great to just let the talk roll along, filling in the nooks and crannies til we fit just right, then no words are needed.

Aging is only bad if you hang on to what must be let go.


One Response to “Dis-traction”

  1. Carrie Gaynor Says:

    3D as also found in the breath…. Yesterday had the breath of winter confounding travel at Dulles International Airport for those of us heading North.

    Dis-traction all afternoon and night….

    Gate 1: 2:30pm – We had a crew but no plane.

    Gate Change 2: 6pm – We had a plane but no crew..

    Gate Change 3: 10pm – We have a crew but no plane… United is flying a plane in specifically to get us in hopes of staying ahead of the snow and ice…. But wait- just kidding – your flight is now cancelled due to weather. Discounted accommodations available….

    This morning is still, as I find time to visit your blog. Another attempt at traction as you would say and a sense of forces coming together. Hopefully a space is being created ahead for us to move into as we climb into the shuttle headed back to Dulles. I want to go home and feel safe and sound for a while with my husband and kids.

    Tom, I wish you well in your writing, for your traction early in the day and the ability to write with clarity in 3D against the odds and the realities of chaos.

    Carrie Gaynor

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