To read “such a quiet thing as thinking”: A we

The rigor of this program (for me) puts me in 9-10 hours of seminar/symposium per day, 7 days / week, and therefore very little time to process, do self-selected-readings, even journal.  At the same time, the strange reality that introduces – of an intensity and exhaustion I truly have never encountered (save perhaps in parenting and certain periods of intimate relation) – presses (prods?) me to adapt, alter, re-think.  So, in order to survive, when moments arise for me to work with a pen and blank pages, I am going to post them as a record, as much for myself forward, as for a witnessing from any of you.  As you can see, a certain blitzing of the brain/body incurs that confuses or disorients.  So this will be a kind of journal / personal notation space for myself (needing witnessed) until time passes and (I hope!) the plenitude of this experience seeps in, along.

Today I found an hour to scribble, and here is how it goes.  Drained, depleted, dissolute-feeling, I translated the first week into an expression around a too-much that exhausts, an overwhelm that empties.

To read such a quiet thing

(click title to view)

Uncannily (as many happenings this first week) – the evening’s lecture concluded with a translating of Maurice Blanchot – to the effect of: “we will maintain plenitude in (or unto) the nothing.”

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4 thoughts on “To read “such a quiet thing as thinking”: A we

  1. nannus

    The intensity you are describing sound a bit like brain washing to me 😉 But I hope you have fun and come out of it with some insights and inspirations (or at least stuff that can be turned into insights and inspirations later on once you have the time to digest it all).

  2. It sounds overwhelming, but productive and something sweet that you will have to savor and take apart for many years to come when all is said and done there… processing this could be your life’s work… so proud of you and glad to hear a little bit about how it’s going, even though it’s tough. Hang in there, Nathan! 🙂

  3. JLA

    On the breeze, the questions settle into lungs, veins, the heart itself…wafting and pumping marks and ellipses in the fir trees.

"A word is a bridge thrown between myself and an other - a territory shared by both" - M. Bakhtin

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