I do a lot of reflection.  After all, I’m a classic INTP.

My tire’s been a little flat lately.  I’ve been losing patience with destiny, experiencing burnout, and getting fed up with not doing the job that my nature wants to do.

Myopic Mindfulness has a couple of relevant posts.  MM mentions, of all things, a “reading room,”  and, in a recent reflection on the flat tire experience, speaks of the “inner room” that is good for prayer.

Literally speaking, I have neither an inner room or a reading room in my house.  It’s hard to find an ideal place to get away and experience privacy and serenity.  If I close my office door, Karla wants to know what I’m up to or the dogs want in because their curious.  Besides, my office has many other distracting things, so my reading/reflecting/prayer goals are never met there.

The YMCA and the library close too early.  Besides, Karla would complain about all of the time I spend away from home–even more so than with the work I am doing.

(I know it’s not fair to assume what Karla will do, but I will anyway.  And even if she wasn’t in that kind of mood, there’s plenty of history to back up those assumptions.)

I need to pray.  I need to reflect.  I need to spend some time alone.

But I always need that.  Desperately.  Why do I not do more of it?