Of the will
The universe of possibilities is more than vast, it bends, fractures, twists into intimate or gargantuan dimensions. I have, so to speak, lost my footing in the quiet everyday life of my four walls. I come home with a different look as if the place no longer belongs to me. Everything is still the same disorder of people who live too long in their four walls. That will have to change.
Everything is still to be done, I guess. Nothing is acquired except the certainty that to change, when one wants, it can be done. For a few days, I had felt the importance of the gesture, that of submitting to someone else’s schedule, of abandoning the comfort, even the confusing comfort, of the established clientele. And in the weeks that followed, I gradually mourned the loss of some projects I was responsible for, and found that, from a handyman, I became an experienced integrator, certainly, but only that. My former clients tell me they are looking elsewhere and that is obviously what they have to do. I still feel a little pinch in my heart to leave them. Leaving to start a new life in another city or country is a bit like that.
Morning is more regulated. I get up at the same time, I have breakfast, I wash, I still take thirty minutes to walk to my cubicle. I bought boots today, invested $350 in something that will withstand the winter walk. I still avoid the too big crowd, the one that regiments itself to get on the buses, the one that clumps into the veins of the subway.
I need to continue, in other words, the walk. I still consider myself an outsider in everyday life. At the office, I interact with my teammates, smiles settle in, everyone’s codes are gradually digested. Since there are many of us, I will know only a few of them. It is a universe of geeks, 80% male for programming, 90% (?) female for design, 40% m / 60% f for management, 100% m for IT support.
It is a growing company. You can feel it in the comings and goings, the announcements, the projects. I’ve already changed places because we had to reorganize for the new ones. It changes me from a certain decrease, starting with mine. I will be able to budget, fill the ballast tanks to rebalance the ship.
It is not yet clear what will be done tomorrow. I’ve taken up singing again, the choir, I’ll be published in a year. I have to give myself a place, a time slot for creativity. Keeping quiet in a too peaceful a state of security is not my style. I don’t worry about it too much.
However, at the moment, I have only one desire. That of sitting on the floor, in a room devoid of artifice. Rediscover my breathing, my tower of fire.
During one of my classes, my teacher told me again to stop wanting to get too much air, as if I was about to dive deep underwater. Singing is impossible underwater. Since that remark, I have been trying very hard and very easily to do everything by just speaking my mind.
The body knows what to do. If I want, it can. So I have to sit down, soak up the theological silence of the present moment, see in others the manifestation of energy similar to mine, listen to the same existential melody in them.
To pray, certainly, as only the layman can will and do.
