Teaching Delmar To Drive, Part II

I just stopped writing a very long paper. I say stopped, rather than finished, because I had a topic that leads. There is no end, and there is no finish, once the subject is opened. I will live now, with the topic. That is the problem, and reward of going to school. I am very busy inside of my being, because these processes, once started, go on inside of me whether I want them to or not. I suppose that is why I am constantly walking, outside. That appears to help manage these voracious, internal activities. I am afraid to stop walking.
I hired a professional to assist me in my attempt to teach Delmar to drive. In publically admiting this, I admit my shortcomings. But too, this is an opportunity to say something I like about myself: when pushed to a corner, I will get help. The man is gentle, kind, and exceptionally talented in couching his instruction. He has several methods, and they are not based on praise. Following the first lesson, Delmar was quick to insist that I ride with them, and learn Ron's method of teaching and responding. "You've got something to learn here. If you went along, you would learn it."

So it seems, one thing leads to another...if you go along.

The title of the paper is Conversatio Morum. It is a Latin phrase that is difficult to translate, but the thrust of it is commitment to an on-going process. It is one of the three vows that Benedictine monks express to govern their lifestyle. A key element in accepting a vow is the freedom to choose it, and embrace it, as one's own. Not imposed by others.

Conversatio Morum is the foremost challenge of my life right now. As I delicately traverse my grief, as I school myself, as I interact with others.

I am thinking about a tattoo, as I witness my squirming...

to go along.