Okay, writing these morning meditations and tuning into the (time-shifted) academic chapel Mass liturgy of the word are proving immensely difficult. Honestly the most difficult parts of a day that is otherwise remarkably challenging. As if fighting through walls of sleep and the inability to think.
And yet, in the nomading daily routine, they were the highlight, the propulsion for the day.
So there's some odd spiritual, emotional, and physical/psychological stuff going on, and some might say that I should streamline things, but I'm going to cling to the practice. The time of trial is not time to abandon the things that bring strength.
I do have to find a way to get back to at least the nomading level of existence. This scratch existence in the city might not be a path that leads to the end of the path. Though I'm diligently using it to gain what I can gain -- research libraries, etc.
Onward. Bit chilly last night, but a few days of comparative warmth on tap.