I feel this morning’s darkness in me. I stretch to receive all that is good out there. I make my cup of Chai. Do you know that today is October 6 – 10/6? It is Mad Hatter Day. To celebrate I leave my morning bed head alone. I am such a lucky girl. I have at least 3 cowlicks. My head of hair looks quite like the mad guy’s hat every morning. I will spare you a picture.
Inhaling and exhaling a few times has ushered in a breath of joie de vivre. The darkness is gone. I’m myself again. Rituals and habits of quigong and a rich cup of Chai gets me moving. I’ve discovered through trial and error, I work best in 15 minute stretches.
It makes a lot of sense for me. I am impatient and have a short attention span and fuse. I interrupt people a lot. Details drive me mad. I live life in a whoosh, what is also known as The Big Gulp. Remember those? I don’t think we’ve recovered from that. We are still in the BIG of things, the more of stuff, the faster the better all the time. If I click enter and nothing happens, I get pissed off PDQ. I get rude.
When I lived like that, there was no savouring, no discerning of nuances. Everything struck me with full force – right smack in the face. I reacted and bounced off walls. Then it was over. I scratched my head, wondering what the hell had happened. It was too late. I had done myself harm.
I’m trying to do different now. I’m stretching and exercising my left brain. Calmness and orderliness would be a good change of pace. I don’t want to live by emotions alone. What Lola wants, Lola gets. That’s how the song goes, right? I’m having some success. Let me see if I can lay it out for you.
It’s not the sort of thing that I’m good at. I’m not skilled at articulating a process. I’m not good at teaching or giving instructions. I’ve never mentored nor asked to mentor a student or a novice nurse in my 30 plus years as a nurse. It’s not that I’m not a team player. It’s that I’ve never been asked.
Is my nose a little disjointed over the fact? No, but it is a little sore. I have the belief that I’m lacking. I’m not good enough. There’s a bit of shame, too in not being an elder. Let me not wait any longer for someone to ask tell me to do something. Let me do it, practice a weakness/a want – working in 15 minutes or as Anne Lamott says in her book BIRD BY BIRD, writing down as much as she can see through a one-inch picture frame.
I’m finding life and writing much easier and palatable in small bites. I put my focus in that 15 minute/one-inch frame. There is no room or time for me to get irritated and frustrated. My energy is contained and directed. I am safe, creating in my sacred space. I let go of all else for that time. There’s time enough after for all else.
I keep the promises to myself, staying committed to the 15 minutes, writing at least 500 words/day. If things are flowing the minutes stretch a bit, of course. Practice does make better. Thoughts, ideas, or pictures that come in smoky vapours are jotted down because I know what happens if I trust that to my memory.
A caught word, a phrase, a sentence or two work magic for me. They have prompted me to write a couple of hundred words upon rising the next morning. When I’m stuck, I get up and do something else. There’s no sense in wasting time pushing myself and getting frustrated. I use those frustration times to stretch, do a load of laundry, tidy up my desk… Little things add up to a lot of housework done, leaving me more free time and feeling mellow.
This morning after I had written 300 some words, I had breakfast. Then I put the makings of chicken soup – carving the carcass, washing and chopping up vegetables – on the stove to simmer while Sheba and I went for our walk.
The chicken soup is ready. Do you find this helpful in any way?