We hereby interrupt our regular scheduled programming to bring you an unusual (and truth be told, long overdue) introspective moment concerning the author’s hitherto undiscovered tolerance for his own shortcomings and the belated realization that he is still willing to learn new tricks.
I’ve been remiss of late concerning both my writing (as in proper, non-technical writing) and self-criticism, for which I have really no excuse whatsoever regardless of the current status quo (personal, work-related or economic).
Writing is never a trivial affair if you intend to do it well, and writing about oneself, even through metaphor and (literal) sleight of hand, further complicates matters to an extent where you need a non-trivial amount of energy to get things rolling, even for the sake of a couple of paragraphs.
It was, as usual, the tiniest thing.
Administrivia, really, and nothing of consequence by itself, but it made me take a metaphorical step back and watch as entire candelabra of crystallized thought tinkled into place around that little piece of information, refracting it into little counterpoints of agreement and dissent, the assertions and exceptions of the sort of mental code that sometimes unfolds inside our minds.
But it made me question a number of things I had taken for granted, and shifted my viewpoint (and, ultimately, my personal goals) the tiniest fraction…