Chaff

Imbolc                                                              Valentine Moon

Greg had to shift our work tomorrow to next Friday.  This morning I plowed through 7 verses in 40 minutes.  That’s getting closer to the pace I want.  13-16 a day.  In fact, with that pace, two sessions the same day would get me there.

This is all chaff.  I know that.  Who cares whether an amateur succeeds in making what will probably be a poor translation of the Metamorphoses? Nobody. I care. And that’s what matters to me, but I’m not ignorant of the global insignificance of this work.

Same with the novel.  Suppose it sells, does well.  More chaff.  If it doesn’t.  Chaff. Working on climate change.  Closer to wheat, less chaff.  Still, my single contribution?  Mostly chaff.

Why keep at any of this?  Because it is what I’ve chosen to define my ancientrail.  I don’t believe any of us have another path open to us.  It’s either choose or have it chosen for you.

(Eleusinian mysteries)