“I’ve had this tab open for maybe a month now.”
                -L. D. Lewis, in the “A Note from the Editor” for We’re Here

                Lately I’m entranced by in-process moments. By the pauses in practices, sometimes calm and quiet. A step outside before washing the dishes. Sometimes hurried and harried, mental gears grinding. The bus ten minutes late and me already worried about getting to a meeting on time. Which is to say, like L. D. Lewis, I tend to leave a lot of tabs open. Some of them are projects I’m working on. Some of them are things I’d like to read, sometime. One of them’s a TV show I’m partway through. And yes, for me, there’s something about hurrying in that, something about a messy feeling where I can’t seem to finish x before I start y. But then again what I’m doing isn’t usually x or y: specific projects and relationships aren’t variables, they’re all the context and nuance of particularities, delights, sometimes confusions. That article I’m partway through reading, the ideas are still turning, rooting down, and the why takes time.
                Which is to say: lately, with so much going on, I’ve been trying to finish things. Knock items off the To-Do List. Sitting with L. D. Lewis, I realize my To-Do Lists don’t know how to list the confusion of a thought half held. A movement still mellowing. How do I listen to more of the open spaces inside what I’m doing?