Category Archives: Viewpoint

Just Another Day’s Work


Hello. Assuming that you, like most of the world is up and at it before I, you are by now, probably reading this post over coffee and toast, and I am slowly becoming aware that my Nietzsche-esque dream has no ending. My thoughts are about how to greet the day and how this process may fuel my thoughts for the duration.

If you’ve been reading this blog for a while (one day or more) you have read my thoughts on How vs. What, on Truth vs. Proof, Process vs. Prejudice, Love vs. Need. These are the basic ideas that occupy my mind when the morning sounds begin to attract my attention; the quail snooping around the patio outside the bedroom door for the crumbs that may have dropped from last nights muffin, the peacock from my neighbor’s yard or the classical music station which has been on for several minutes. When I first awoke it was to recorded jungle sounds, a greeting from Eden to start the day.

Upsy daisy, feet on the floor, take the blood pressure, record the results, grab the meds on the nightstand, gulp them down with the apple juice sitting on the bedside table. Jeans and tee-shirt. Clip the nose hairs and nails  and off to the corner drugstore for the morning paper. I go to CVS because they don’t charge sales tax on the daily news. I also go for the morning socialization. Everyone there knows me as Lee the Writer and that I will be back in four hours for a look at the sale items of the day before I place my Nike clad feet on the Arizona Canal for their daily run.

I get that paper for any number of reasons, none of which is to learn what’s new, though on rare occasions I do get a surprise. I buy the paper for two purposes; it is small and by virtue of its condensed size, the perfect format for affirming and reminding one of the bits and pieces of news gathered on the internet the night before.  And…….it has crossword puzzles.

Preparing for Breakfast and doing the daily puzzle are a combined activity. In between word/definition matches I reach for my bowl of freshly cooked oatmeal prepared with walnuts, honey and fruit and then back to the job at hand. All perfectly natural, don’tcha think?

Crossword puzzles are created for a variety of reasons. I am attracted only to the United Feature Syndicate crossword; reason being it is less a crossword than a daily set of clues about what’s happening in the world, what we should be paying attention to, who wants to be noticed and keywords for Googling one’s way though the day.  After spending thirty minutes seeking linguistic and ideological solutions I now know that “dour” does not rhyme with “sour” and that someone wants us to know that words like Emir and Iran and Nuclear require our attention. Oreo is still competing with Hydrox. We’ve been given a small lesson in the important languages of the day and “gnat” and “natty” are still a part of everyday vocabulary. A hundred twenty or so words are now vying for my attention to become tags in today’s work. And having completed four hours of writing there will be two hours of exercise, one hour at the dinner table, I will dress for evening coffee with other writers and conversationalists and rather than slip into grubby jeans and black tee-shirt, I polish a pair of black Cole Hahns, slide into a natty black velvet sport coat, grab a couple of Oreos on my way out the door and think about the TED talk  that I watched today. And dinner with my pals is not complicated by my natural introverted manner for I have keywords and I can pose as an extrovert for the evening. (What will I think of myself in the morning?) Even worse; I’m booked for an extrovert party on Sunday. This particular event is being billed as a Superbowl potluck. Tags, tags, tags, I need tags.

A Less Than Perfect Explanation of Perfectionism.


Found in my email:

“ There would be no music if high C were the only note,
no art if spectrum red were the only color,
no joy in pleasure if pleasure were the only feeling — and paradoxically,
there would be no perfection without imperfection.” Anonymous.

Point 1: There would be lots of music with only one note. Ask any Australian Aborigine.

Point 2: With only red there is still pink, white and noir; there is texture; there is sculpture and architecture and language is the greatest of all the arts.

Point 3: There is only one feeling; that is Love. Some say that there is another feeling called Fear. I say that Fear is Empty, the total absence of feeling. But what do I know?

Point 4: There is perfection. There has always been perfection; it is called Love. But since we are imperfect beings we shall never really know Love in this lifetime except in little snatches as we practice the behavior of Loving, which is doing for others what they cannot do for themselves, and assisting them in acquiring the knowledge and skills to do just that, expecting nothing in return. In this case we are not actually loving, we are being loved and that small loving moment is what makes life worth the experience.

The author also had this to say:

“What does this mean to me? Well, first it means that I don’t have to be perfect. All I have to do is grow at a pace natural to me –
and that is all I have a right to expect of others.”

Sounds right to me. Thank you. Funny thing about this post is that by pointing out the imperfection of those four perfectionist points, I, like the author I am quoting, am making my own attempt at being perfect in order to overcome perfection. Wow, Perfect, absolutely Perfect.

Lee Broom. Originally posted at…