It doesn’t feel like a block

It doesn’t have a “writer’s block” vibe to it, this not-posting-regularly. The result is the same, but the interiority…

…more like acedia:

“…a state of listlessness or torpor, of not caring or not being concerned with one’s position or condition in the world. It can lead to a state of being unable to perform one’s duties in life. Its spiritual overtones make it related to but arguably distinct from depression. Acedia was originally noted as a problem among monks and other ascetics who maintained a solitary life.” [thanks, Wikipedia]

It’s 9pm. I thought tonight I was not-blogging because I had some strenuous A-parenting after dinner. 40 minutes moving from shouting and sarcasm into full meltdown.  A sad thing…parenting well is never straightforward, and I find it harder to parent the hyper-independent than the other kinds. It becomes impossible to tell when old-fashioned “there there I’ll tuck you in and feed you soup” is the right thing and not an affront.

But as that excuse rolled from one end of my head to the other, I thought: nah. Ya had all damn day, knew ya did, and didn’t write anyway. Don’t pin it on the girl.

Acedia, now that could have some legs. 

I’ll think about it tomorrow.  

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