It is fascinating that the chickens will fly up to the edge of their crate, but won’t leave it. I saw one almost go up to the window the other day I suppose. It isn’t that they can’t escape, but that they choose not to.

I named mine Zooey today. She now joins the named ranks of Rosalita, Shortround and Ladyhawk Wolfsbane Brewster.

I feel good about having finished reading Hindsight. I almost went to the shop to work on some bike projects to wake up for a bit. While it is not quite dark out, it is late, and I can’t work on the chicken coop tonight. I turned around once outside to come in and pick up a new book. This week has been straight out and full of enough happenings to think about.

Attention, like hindsight, is therefore a corrective device, a vehicle not so much of detachment but of distance, productive distance, that can allow us to see that which we were unable to see before.

H and I talked at length about self-esteem and approval. Actually, about a great many things. A lot about what I have been talking to J about, which is growth and leaving relationships behind because of it. About my fears of loneliness that derive from this. About people’s recommendations, their fixes being short-sighted, cliche, ultimately frustrating. That experience distances you from others, when they can’t or won’t listen, when they tell you they can’t handle you or that what you are doing is wrong or dumb. When I spoke of what’s changed between M and JR, J asked me what happened between then. I joked about a dozen relationships and she clarified her rhetorical question: personal growth. I admitted as much, in a tone that always reminds me of M, in an “oh, growth.” sort of way.

I’ve changed, for the better. There’s no denying that it has all been worthwhile. And what now? Stop, realign my direction with the Good, and continue on again. And repeat.