Spring break has come and gone, its passing lost (for me) somewhere in a flurry of rainstorms, errands, apartment cleaning, and retail employment drudgery. I went nowhere exotic, unless work constitutes exotic (which it doesn't), but I did get quite a bit done. Since I am generally of an activity level best described as "comatose sloth," this is perhaps interesting.

Of what were these doings comprised, you may ask? Words, people! Words! I wrote many words. I was able to make some progress on a project I've literally been at for 10 years now, and I can tell you it feels great to have broken past whatever block has confounded me for the last few months. Writers come down with this horrible feeling of guilt and shame when they're not actively working on something, and I am no exception.

I am a writer: of this I have no doubt. I often say (or like to claim that I often say) that what a person truly is can be defined by what they tend to drift toward when given free time. It's almost like the soul has a sort of base, elemental attunement with certain activities, and strives for them whenever it can. Honestly, I like to think of it as similar to Socrates' idea of pure goodness in his theory of forms (eudaimonism)...we all strive, in our many ways, to achieve a higher purity. Though we're often distracted, and sometimes falter, we all seek a purpose that can only be described as higher.

For the Catholics here at Saint Vincent, I think it's safe to say that faith in God and adherence to His moral code illustrates the nature of our quest for...well, everything. The good, enlightenment, purity, peace, happiness: these are all ways of describing something which is, by its very nature, elusive, but desirable. Whenever I consider this sort of thing in the context of Plato and his cohorts, I envision the Greatest Good much like the sun: beautiful, but impossible to directly look upon. You have to sidle up to it and catch glimpses from the corners of your eyes.

I'm not Catholic, or indeed even Christian, but that of course doesn't mean I don't understand, respect, or appreciate the faith of those who are. I see in it the same kind of connection I get from writing: a feeling of being a part of something far greater than I am, of joining an ancient order of authors and storytellers merely by participating in the same rituals and holding true to the same convictions.

The Good is everywhere...the trick is finding it without losing sight of it, or being blinded by it. Something to think about, perhaps.