07:08. Almost every night, I go to sleep with good intentions.
In my mind I say gratitudes for all that I have, and lately I also say a blessing for those who might wish to do harm. I know that anyone who wishes to do harm suffers deeply. It’s easy to forget this in the midst of our own suffering, but it’s when we realize it that our minds begin to free themselves from the chains of fear and resentment.
Every night I go to sleep with the good intention of waking up early, as I used to in the old days, and writing 1000 words just for myself. The 1000 words were not good at first, though I loved every one of them in retrospect like it was a masterpiece. I loved them because putting them onto the page had brought me peace that no other activity had done before it.
I think for some people it’s breathing/sitting meditation (zazen), for others it’s painting, for some it’s running; for some, like my husband, it’s building with wood and concrete (his hobby, no longer his profession); we each have our way. Some of these and other things, like sewing or making music, have also brought me peace at times. But writing was a way for me to record my meditative thoughts as they appeared, and left a record that I could look back on later, which enabled me to see progress.
After a while though, the writing seemed to begin to write itself, and I felt like it was not truly my voice but another one writing through me, one in touch with Deeper Power and the Land, and the Universe in general. Sometimes tears would come as I wrote, or tingles, and sometimes, though more rarely, I would read back on such a piece, having stumbled upon it by accident when searching for something else, and tears would come. I would marvel at what was on the page and I would think it was good, and maybe something that should be shared. Not just for my benefit, but maybe for others’ as well.
Gosh do I ever have a way of going off on tangents. That wasn’t what I meant to write about at all. Okay. My point.
First off, let it be noted that I am typing directly into a blog editor, not a journal app or private page. The page is still technically private, for now, but the fact of typing directly into a blog editor rather than a private page usually means that I will:
a) write, these days, rather than not write — this is because of my blogging addiction — and:
b) I will write with the intent to hit publish, so the words will come out slightly differently — i.e. not in a rough tumble of raw emotion and random factoids.
My point of this piece is this, actually — I’ll say it now before I forget — my point is that I have intentions to wake up early and write a masterpiece — one of the rare bits of writing gold that used to happen for me after many many consecutive days of practice writing sh*t.
But most mornings, just like this morning, I don’t wake up early — I wake up late by my standards, and I don’t feel like writing a masterpiece. I can’t write a masterpiece. All I want to write about are the thoughts I’ve woken up with.
I no longer wake up at 04:30, and put my feet on the floor the minute I wake up. I usually wake up later, having gone to bed too late the night before, and I lie there and do a bit of thought-watching.
Sometimes I’ve had a vivid dream and I ponder that, or sometimes the dream fades immediately away, and I’m left with a series of small, dispersed and quickly dissipating building blocks, like when my kids break down walls or earth in Minecraft, and the large blocks momentarily become fading smaller blocks before disappearing completely, during the crafter’s search for diamond or gold or other valuable materials.
In the moment of the smaller-block dream-view stage, it’s as though I can see all the pieces of a puzzle at once. In watching the puzzle come apart, I understand the pieces it is made of — and then an “aha” moment occurs.
But the “aha” moment is only interesting to me, in my own little life. So my ego doesn’t want to write about that, and record it, though my mind-manager knows I should — my mind-manager realizes it would be beneficial for my inner machine’s libraries and documentation systems, helpful for reflective study and for developing internal protocol. But my ego wants me to write something amazing instead, and then share it with the world, mostly for personal gain (interaction, hopeful admiration, recognition, possible eventual monetary compensation…). So my inner creative fire is completely blocked, while those two, the Ego and the Manager, have a meeting together. So nothing gets written, period.
And then I come to WordPress, and just start typing. The other guys are still in the boardroom, drinking non-GMO herbal tea while they hash it out. Meanwhile I’ve just poured my first cup of coffee.
My point is, where there’s a Will, there’s a way. The way is made by walking. And there is no one, single “right” way. Follow your inner creative flame out of the glass building. Or give it a bit more fuel, and watch it shine though boardroom walls. Who knows; it could light the way for someone, tiny as it may be.
08:08. Mmmm. Java. God I love mornings.
08:38. Oh how nice! The boardroom guys have just come out of their meeting, having laid down some process notes. We’ve had a great session together, reminiscing over old times. I share our tracks below.
- Currently reading: Under Milk Wood, a book once mentioned to me in comments, by multi-talented blog-friend Matthew Richardson. Completely blown away by the word-magic infused throughout. Such a gift of a recommendation. I’m very grateful. (I have a strong feeling someone else has recommended me this book as well. Maybe it was via another blog though. Sorry I cannot remember; please come forward in the comments if you do!)
- For non-native English readers, I’ll mention that “where there’s a will there’s a way” is a well-known idiom, in case you didn’t already know :))
- “The way is made by walking” comes from Antonio Machado’s semi-famous poem. (You can find my English translations of both the Spanish and French versions of it, at that link.)
08:45. Tags added. Titled spur-of-the-moment at the end, as random word-thought blips from the subject matter. Not going to worry about it. 08:51 – what?!? even an image? Sure why not! Selected from previously-found images in this blog’s media files.
Someone somewhere said that adding process notes is the surest way to turn an audience away from the mystery of creation, and/or perhaps it’s even narcissistic; implying that someone would find your work interesting enough to want to learn more about it. I decided I’m okay with that. I’ve been grateful for every process revealed to me by others, even regarding the simplest works or tasks. Pay it forward, they say. Process notes are my often-bungling attempts… :)) Please give a star/like and/or comment if you enjoyed. Stars and comments are my virtual cosmic rabbit food. Thank you! 🌟 🐇
Nadine inhales & exhales words & images from current vantage point in Auvergne, France. Thank you for reading. ❤︎