Writer's Block

I'm just miserably blocked right now on the thesis, and worrying about it makes it more so.

I'm in a loop where I can edit the stuff I've already written just fine, but can't seem to get any new sections written. Too much information floating in my head, and I haven't found the hook yet. I got seven pages done last week. I should do another ten this week, and I don't know how that will happen.

I guess I'm thinking of the question I need to answer for the next section (namely, something like what are the key elements of the Matthean community that might have shaped that gospel narrative and how do they differ from the world of Jesus 50 years earlier) and trying to come up with a fresh way of laying out the answer. As I said, I've got tons of material. It's the sorting/discarding/laying out that seems to elude me right now. Veni creator spiritus!

I suspect that part of the answer to the problem is that there is a little voice lurking at the back of my skull reminding me of the meeting with the Commission on Ministry (now renamed the Commission on the Priesthood) that will occur on Friday, along with a meeting with our bishop-to-be. Rational me says that all the other meetings went swimmingly, and this one will be no different. Irrational me says that it's time for the shoe to drop - apologies for the mixed metaphors - and it will all fall apart now, after almost three years of hard work at Big Old Seminary and much money. And our coadjutor is a lovely man, and we've met before, and there is no indicator that there will be any problem with him. But under stress, old insecurities awaken from deep slumber and grumble and gnaw.

Meanwhile, I look at our ever-dwindling nest egg and wonder what the future holds. C'mon, Lord, give me a clue, okay? I need a little something to warm me up.

On a happier note, StoneMason called up this afternoon and was quite chipper. His birthday (23) is in a couple of weeks, and he asked us to contribute to an inexpensive bicycle for him to ride as the weather improves way up north. I suspect he's tired of paying to fix his old car every week or two, and likes the idea of something more mechanically simple to get to and from work.

March, in fact, is the month for three birthdays amongst my sons and stepsons. That alone makes me smile again. And I will have dinner with two of my favorite galpals tomorrow evening.

I am blessed, though blocked.