The Longest Now

So I’m just sitting down to read my mail at leisure for the first time in a few days, and am getting back to 100 messages a day, despite getting rid of most of my mailing lists and spam (mostly excited discussion about our new machine, but the social and professional melodrama count is also on a steady rise).  And it is so nice to have that luxury.

I have juicy hate mail from a loved one, a short love letter from a stranger, two fascinating technical discussions which pertain directly to my current life, and serious philosophical exchanges with my mother, an old friend, and a sparring partner.  There is an ongoing conversation about how to lighten the atmosphere of my beautiful house, and planning for various houseparties to meet new housemates, neighbors, and old friends returning to Boston.  Then there is new feedback on two projects that excite me greatly, and which provide total contentment while I am working on them… so there are ten or twelve hours of wonderful work I can put in without coming up for air.  And there are a few charming letters from people I don’t know well but would love to know better, which is always a recipe for delightful correspondence.

But there’s something special about waiting a moment to note all of this, and to smile at the luxury of having enough time to digest, respond to, interact with it all — and of having this language and channel for connecting with the outer world.