I’m a PC, and I let my PC update programs automatically.

When these updates fail, an error code is produced … so many times, it’s an unknown error. To me and my computer.

Try and get help with it, and you enter a virtual door that opens to a door that opens to a door that opens to another door. No help, though (Was this helpful to you? No. How can we make it more helpful to you? Exit.)

It’s quite fascinating to me that computer illiterates like me can even update our computers so seamlessly to begin with. Still, I keep wondering about that unknown error “646.”

Each time I turn off my computer, it tries to update itself again –with no luck. Poor thing.

I can feel PC pain. Which is a little like back pain that wakes you up at night. As the poet Rumi says, “No need to snore like a buffalo when this wonder is walking the world.”

Tee-hee.

I have (too many) moments in my life when I feel alone, not good enough. I’ll step away from my computer, my office, my doubts – and look for a reason to believe.

I search for it in poetry, and read from A Year With Rumi, by Coleman Barks:

January 6 – Sometimes I Do

In your light I learn how to love.

In your beauty, how to make poems.

You dance inside my chest,

where no one sees you,

but sometimes I do,

and that light becomes this art.

I look for the spark in other people’s work, like seth godin’s Blog:

January 6 – Soles

There’s a sign on most squash courts encouraging players to wear only sneakers with non-marking soles. I’m not sure there’s such a thing. If you’re going to do anything worthy, you’re going to leave a mark.

I hear musical theatre in my head, especially Stephen Sondheim:

Anything you do, let it come from you, then it will be new …

give us more to see …

I cry a little and give thanks for synchronicity.

I’m tired and drained. Make something.

Sometimes the best thing to do is nothing at all.

Wake up at the usual time … but stay in bed. Set the coffee to brew … and finish the entire pot yourself. Prepare a meal just for the fun of it. No microwave. Read all morning in your pajamas. Finish the story. Put plans aside. Let the day unfold. Walk out the door and keep walking. Nowhere.

Listen to the clock ticking. Don’t say a word.

Enjoy the downtime.