"Distracted" has come to me several times recently. The other day I was observing myself getting distracted repeatedly from something that I wanted to do. Which made me question myself, "Do I really want to [do this thing that I had been anticipating]?" I saw myself choosing to do other things so that these other things were "pulling me away"—the usual rendering of "distracted."

But it's a "dis-" word: a word with the Latin god of the underworld riding shotgun into a whole world of other imaginative and useful meanings.

18th century painting showing Mercury (center), Flora (right), and Dis Pater (left), from Convito per le nozze di Amore e Psiche (The Wedding Feast of Cupid and Psyche), Galleria Nazionale di Palazzo Spinola, Genoa (Wikipedia)

Such as "being pulled under." The directional difference of being pulled under as opposed to being pulled away conjures experiences with rip currents. I think of my brother telling me of being pulled out to sea on an Australian beach when he felt unable to escape. Of my son Malachi at Lake Macbride being pulled down the spillway and into the lake while his siblings watched helplessly and I flailed after him. Of the myth of Persephone being dragged to the underworld by Hades when she had been picking flowers with her friends. Sucked into the abyss. Snatched away. Raped.

Distracted brings to mind a whirl of all these. A Frankensteined image of Malachi, my brother, a young girl I've never known but know as clearly as I know myself. It's tangled, sure.

"Pulled down" sees a descent, a locational movement from one plane to another. The former is superior; the latter—by default—inferior. Last night, I certainly saw myself being pulled down from what I would see as the superior activity. But why? Why would I consider what I was doing inferior? I was watching YouTube videos of Caitlin Clark, the Iowa women's basketball superstar whom I've found to be inspiring even on the most uninspiring of days. I rolled from one to the other, aware that the amount of time I thought I had for contemplating the new year was passing me by. I saw that I wasn't being my productive self, which is an arbitrary ideal that I never really achieve. Even on my most productive days I find umpteen other things that I didn't get to. The result is that any indulgence on YouTube feels extravagant, wasteful. A distraction. Shouldn't I be focused?

Rae Evemond has invited me to see these "rabbit holes" in entirely new light. At best, the indulgence is creating a particular space for me to work; it's preparing me by sucking out the excess time to create the necessary pressure to spur me to more focused work. Like I don't know what to do with extra time, my subconscious has to construct a time block that suits my work ethic more fittingly.

Grad school taught me that I have enough time to complete what I must. So, when I have more than enough time, my indiscretions go to work to use up the excess. In this sense, I'm not seen as wasting time as much as I'm creating a space conducive to my best efforts needs. Think of it like a garden hose: without a spray nozzles to shoot the water across the yard, the water rolls out plenty and full but not powerful and far. Squeeze off the opening with your thumb creates the pressure needed to add the power and distance of a nozzle.

YouTube is my thumb creating pressure because I'm lazy and powerless with too much time.

Taking this logic to one foreseeable end means that my "indiscrete" use of my time is helpful. Perhaps even healthy. My mind is self-regulating to create optimal conditions for me to work. But who's to say I'm not simply sugar-coating a turd? Or does it matter how I create optimal working conditions provided they really are optimal working conditions? Would I also need to think that the forces that are "pulling me under" offer some sort of "yin" to my productive "yang"?

Am I really back to the question of whether I can fully realize "good" without fully realizing "evil"?

I'm not sure, though I must admit: I find great power in a redemptive evil. By which I mean that "evil" serves some great purpose in the world. A force that propels us toward greater good. I'm not sure I like it. At least not in all contexts. The "greatest generation" found its greatness in challenging, confronting, and crushing Hitler, but does that mean we have to appreciate evil to the extent that it allows us to see what is good? I'm uncomfortable with something here. This is a thought experiment—not a dissertation on good and evil.

What I can appreciate for the moment is that sometimes—despite my best efforts to distract myself—I can see that I've created favorable conditions for working, even when those favorable conditions simply mean creating a space with less time and more pressure to accomplish my work.

I’ll simply be grateful for that for now.

On “distraction”

On a tree outside my window

On my Laura Belgray day