Skip to main content

No Time Like the Present

I'm sitting in Starbucks right now staring at my computer screen. I type a sentence, think about it for a minute, and then delete it. Words and ideas flood my head, but I can't seem to focus them in one direction long enough to complete a thought that is worthy of sharing with anyone.

Right now I'm thinking of when I'm going to deal with yard work again, paying my ridiculously high cell phone bill, dating, divorce, running, my own self-image, the fact that I need to start feeding my body decent food, listing my house for sale, and the occasional reminder that I need to buy more water and cat food. And perhaps some food for myself.

That's on my mind, but what I really want to share are some of the ideas I've been toying with in my head. The aging process for women. The joy of knowing you are exactly where you're supposed to be in life. The connectedness of the world around us. The process of carving out a life in line with your values. I even have a few more book ideas.

I just can't seem to get past the fact that I need to sell my house and arrange things on my calendar and figure out what the hell is running through the minds of the men around me. (Why must they be so confusing?) And I'm frustrated by this because the mundane is interfering with my spirit.

So there you have it: the present state of my mind at this point. Good things are happening here. Right now. In this moment. You just don't get to know any of it until I finish my budget for the month of August.

Comments

Christy said…
Ah yes. Reality. The bane of the creative mind.
frabjouspoet said…
And it really sucks when you feel the creative drive.

Popular posts from this blog

Pardon the Interruption

It's 10:00. My race clothes are laying across the top of the dog crate. I've already consumed my all-natural sleep aid. The alarm is set for 4:45 in the morning. I should be sleeping, but my mind is spinning at an unnatural rate. Remember this poem ? The subject of that poem married just a few weeks ago, and I just finished looking through his wedding photos. It's a strange feeling. Not one of loss. Or Regret. Or even wistfulness. I'm thoroughly happy for both of them in a way that will seriously not make sense to most of the people I know. I suppose there will always be an odd sense of knowing in a situation like this. I know the feel of those lips. I've seen that look in his eyes. What I felt for him was real and pure and drives the feeling of satisfaction that is currently overwhelming me. I love knowing that he's in love--even if it's not with me. I even saved my favorite photo to my computer because the image stirred something in me that needs to be sti...

On Muchness

A dear friend confessed to me last night that he had lost his muchness and found it again. I confessed the same and even admitted the ridiculous series of events that recently sapped my own muchness. That little confession seemed to do wonders. It's so easy to fall out of step with myself. In fact, I do it quite naturally. Growing up in a Christian home, I took to heart the instructions to love my neighbor more than I love myself. Oh, wait! I just checked the scripture. "Love your neighbor as yourself." I may have been doing this the wrong way. I ended 2010 with the resolution that I would no longer make decisions out of fear. I am starting 2011 with the resolution to make decisions based on what I want. I've struggled with this because I've always believed that I should consider the needs and wants of others before my own. I'd like to think this is a valiant approach, but the truth is that it only leads to martyrdom...and I don't think I was given the opp...

TMI and Tidal Waves

As usual, it's been a busy week around these parts, and none of my activities this week involved running. If my grandmother could hear at the moment and complete a sentence without hacking up a lung, she'd ask me what's wrong. I'd have to confess that my eczema has flared up in this oh-so-cold-there's-ice-on-my-car south Florida weather, and my skin is so itchy that I have bruises up and down my limbs from all the scratching I've been doing. There are some days I'm relieved to know men with calloused hands. (Before you take that last comment too seriously, remind yourself that I am writing this at 9:30 on a Friday night.) Anyway... I met up for coffee with someone last night who proved to stoke my creative juices. I'll spare you the details of the conversation, but I did have to stop him mid sentence to point out that that particular conversation will most definitely become part of "La Isla Encontrada." Fortunately, he agreed to it, and I fully...