There's a delicate balance between work and the remainder of life. This weekend I received too many emails from work, irritating communications from fairly senior individuals using the pause in the working week to get their voices heard. The sorts of messages that require response, if only to stop hares running. It took much of that ride to rid my mind of that noise. On days like this I realise how the act of riding a horse drives out business and worry from my consciousness. Brena maintains my attention, the views fill me with joy, and the tranquility calms. I stayed on the right side of that balance between work and the rest of my life, but only just. Tomorrow I shall ask a couple of people to mend their ways.
On a day like this I can go home tired in body but refreshed in mind, thinking of a glass of wine and a warming dinner. It's a pleasant sensation to finish the day with gently aching muscles, face and arms glowing from the warmth of a benevolent sun, mind quiet. All that's missing is the opportunity to ride up to a cozy cottage at day's end. There's always a rustic dream lurking within.
It's five weeks now since I returned from that glorious month travelling. Now I'm beginning to realise just how much unconscious processing is taking place within me. That's a lot to pile atop a busy job. How I need those rides to create the space for ideas to gain consciousness. And these quiet moments typing in order to articulate them. Now something else is occurring to me. I've prided myself on being the outsider who sees what is really happening. I began to realise that it's my role to turn abstraction into useful ideas. But, more than that, I need to concentrate on the details. The time for generalisation alone has passed, most specifically at work, and perhaps throughout my life.