Sloth debauchery

"Jack, you have debauched my sloth."

*snigger*

The best quote I've read for ages.

From HMS Surprise, the 3rd of Patrick O'Brian's Aubrey/Maturin novels, and the best yet (I'm reading from the start of the series).

*adores Stephen Maturin*

( Minor spoiler )

Divine music

The Boccherini piece from the Master and Commander soundtrack (La Musica Notturna Delle Strade Di Madrid, No. 6, Op. 30) is just divine and joyous. The sort of thing that makes me glad to be alive. :-)

Solitude, and flying

I love company, love my friends and family, but sometimes it is just so nice to be alone. I had the perfect evening yesterday evening, in Switzerland on my business trip, completely solitary. I sat in the bar for three beers, reading and making notes, then came back to my hotel room and lay in bed, eating apples and chocolate (Green and Black's organic dark 70%, for those who know about such things), reading, writing, and listening to music. I was perfectly, solitarily content in my own undisturbed space for the whole evening. Blissful, and so relaxing.

---

I hate flying (I didn't used to mind it, but as I've got older the fear has come upon me). But I fly quite a lot - most of my business trips are to the Continent, and I'm damned if I'm going to let fear overcome logic. I know the physics of why the plane stays up in the air (however illogical it might seem), and I know that statistically I'm safer on the plane than on the drive to the airport. So flying has become an exercise in self-control.

It's often bumpy coming in to land at Zurich, but yesterday we experienced the worst tubulence I've yet encountered. The plane didn't just rock about, it slewed wildly several times. Even the cabin crew looked a little tense. Horrible.

I rarely feel the absence of a god. But descending into Zurich airport yesterday was one of those times when having a deity to pray to would have been very comforting...

Relaxation

For reasons I won't go into here, I was thinking about microfocusing as a way of relieving tension.

Before I had the kids I used to ride dressage horses. There was one mare, Lorna, who was a cow. She would straggle round the manege, ewe-necked and virtually tripping over her own feet. She wasn't generous - she'd never give you the benefit of the doubt, ever.

But if you got it right - absolutely right, perfection in fact - she'd come on the bit, come round and supple under you, light in the hand, and float through whatever it was you were asking her to do. A revelation. And leaving you in no doubt that this was what it was supposed to feel like.

After an hour with Lorna, an hour of total concentration and focus on body posture and the smallest of muscle movements, I used to feel completely relaxed mentally, as though all the stresses of life and work had been wiped away from my brain.