My dad, who was born in 1916, had lots of catch phrases and sayings. One of them was "Another day, another dollar." I had no idea until now that it was a song (and not a bad one at that).
That's kind of my day. In "practice" terms, it felt like progress. I had a lovely lunch with my dear friend Charlie S wherein we discussed business, literature, publishing, writing, and life. I did some ... I wanted to say relevant shopping ... relevant to getting by but still pleasurable if not luxurious or indulgent ...
I had a nice amount of time to read my Montaigne book.
So progress. Certainly not as much as I had envisioned. On the other hand, I rather enjoyed the day more than some. And, although I think of myself as a hedonist, I am not sure that I enjoy all these processes as much as I might.
Ah-ha! Some consciousness might be well applied to the small pleasures of the moment an the process.
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