Not there yet, but I'm getting there

Today, I rose early, 5:30 a.m. and read from Ralph Richardson’s intellectual biography of Henry David Thoreau. I have been obsessed with Thoreau for more than thirty years now, and though I have not studied him in the more recent past, I am ready to return to this love during my sabbatical. Thoreau says that that only that morning dawns to which we are awake—and I mean during this sabbatical to be awake. Except, of course, when I have a nap. In the early morning dark and quiet, I made myself coffee and turned on the fire place—via remote control! Then I sat down in the comfy chair to read.

I mean (somehow) to make some connection between Thoreau and another new passion—Baruch Spinoza. Arrived today in the mail (via Barnes & Noble, God love them) and UPS, two new books on the latter and Thoreau’s Cape Cod. Richardson says that one thing that Cape Cod is about is salvation. Personally, I am very much concerned with salvation; so was Baruch, and so it satisfies me to learn that HDT, too, gave much thought to the idea. And all of us have a sense that it occurs here and now.

Made muffins for the children’s breakfast. It is so rewarding to put this meal on the table in the morning. And this morning, each liked the fare. This is an unusual confluence—not because they don’t like my cooking, but because they don’t usually arrive to the table in the morning prepared to like me enough for the compliment.

After breakfast I returned to the reading (after checking my email to see if anybody anywhere was giving me money. You see, I was raised on the TV program The Millionaire, and I cannot answer the doorbell, or go to the mailbox, or open my email without looking for a missive from John Beresford Tipton).

Then, at 9:00 a.m., I ran for the first time in weeks with Gary, my dear friend and running partner. He has been in Europe—specifically Amsterdam, where lived Spinoza until he was excommunicated by the Jewish community. Gary visited for me the Jewish Museum and returned with a wonderful poster of a wood but depicting the two Jewish synagogues in 17th century Amsterdam—the Sephardic and the Ashkenazic congregations. The poster is beautiful, the thought incommensurable. The framing is valued at the price of Gary’s entire three week trip.

Studied a bit of a paper to which I must make response in mid-February. Thought of some interesting perspectives I might take. I am looking forward to assuming the role of senior scholar. I feel like a senior (even get into certain movies at senior citizen rates), though I am forever skeptical of my position as scholar.

Visited for a short while with Jill, a colleague at the University to which I do not go at present.

Then, the children arrive. “Dad, would you help me with my homework?” “Dad, can I talk on the phone?” “Dad, what’s for dinner?” The formal ending of my day and the beginning of the evening. I love the moment. I feel actually useful.

I’m on sabbatical, but I’m not yet there. But I’m moving closer.