Adam Blatner

I’m blogging various thought complexes in between my home-making tasks of laundry, drying, folding, preparing foods, hanging up clothes, keeping track of my various papers, reading library books, waking up, going to sleep—and those are peripheral to my core identity, which is manufacturing ideas for God. (Well, these other mundane tasks are less peripheral than before now that I’m growing older. They express the reality that I am a mere mortal.)

Speaking of God, the greater wholeness of which we’re all a part—I’m sure I don’t know. In my more grandiose moments I flatter myself by saying that I’m one of the billions upon billions—but still a tiny minority!—who are daring to imagine where we’re going. It’s a sort of lighting a light. But then again, someone’s got to do it. That idea gives me some comfort, I must admit.

I’m thinking of many other things, too, but not all manner of things. Meanwhile, there are a hundred times as many things I’m NOT thinking about, either neglect-ing, avoiding, or have no idea that it would be expected, welcome, or even possible to think about. Although I confess that I’ve given up feeling guilty for what I’m not doing. There are billions on this planet who are doing other things. I do what I do.