Do Something Different

Reading Chair 2019-11-10 20.43.31
My Comfy Reading Chair

I journal every morning, a habit I developed after reading The Artist’s Way years and years ago. It helps me figure out what I’m thinking, what I’m ignoring, what I’m actively trying not to notice, and what I should definitely be paying more attention to. Part of my process is copying affirmations that seem appropriate to the day, week, month–however long I need them in order to get the message through to my stubborn brain.

For quite awhile, I’ve felt harried and constantly short on time. I never seemed to be able to accomplish any of things I wanted to, even small things like a brief morning meditation, or sitting and reading one of the many books waiting patiently in the bedside queue. Or doing my laundry. Or getting enough sleep.  Recently, in an attempt to fix this on-going problem, I added “I always have all the time I need” to my morning affirmations. Five times, long-hand, at the end of each morning’s journaling session.

Eventually, my stubborn brain noticed how much of that “all the time I need” ended up being sucked into the void of my smartphone, how long those journeys down the rabbit hole would last, and how much that contributed to my feeling of my time not being my own. And how often those timetrips were taken while lying in bed at night when I should be sleeping or in the morning when I should be getting up and on with my day, and all the things I had been lamenting my lack of time for.

Okay. Sometimes I’m slow, but when I do finally figure something out, I’m pretty good at deciding that if what I’m doing isn’t working for me, then it’s time to Do Something Different. And the something different I chose seems like such a small thing, but I decided that I would no longer look at my phone from the horizontal. No more phone time in bed. Period.

And just that little change, that little something different, allowed me to read a novel last week, for the first time in what seems like forever. I’ve also started reading another book this week, got my house a little tidier, and now, here I am: “finding” the time to sit at my computer and write this little blog post.

 

 

 

Seeds of Thought

Black loam is the best soil
Seeds need a dark, rich place
To germinate in quiet isolation
Protected from even the most well-intentioned interference

Ideas are the same
We speak of bringing them to light
But from where
The dark recesses of our minds
The rich blackness of subconscious
Inklings, thoughts before thoughts

The biggest eurekas, the brightest epiphanies
Need that silent darkness for understanding to dawn

 

 

(OctPoWriMo 2019, Day 12; Prompt: Black; Suggested form: Shadow Sonnet. But I went with free verse, instead.)

Your Gentle Voice

I hear your voice
Voice inside my mind
Mind you, I know you’re not
Not here, not yet, and I’m resigned

Because I know your voice
Voice I hear inside
Inside my mind, inside my self
Self I tried to hide

You’ve found me, now, though
Though it took us awhile to make the choice
Choice for every day of my life
Life with you and your gentle voice

 

(OctPoWriMo 2019, Day 11; Prompt: Silence; Suggested type: Loop)

Seeing vs. Seeing

My vision is weak
Has been since I was a child
Everything fuzzy, blurry, wavy
Or like that white softball coming at me out of the white clouds
Just flat invisible, until suddenly it wasn’t
Like the curveballs life threw at me a few times
Until I finally figured out I could see things a lot more clearly
If I just stopped for a minute and closed my eyes

(OctPoWriMo 2019, Day 9; Prompt: seeing; Suggested style: free choice)

Smoky Memories

Daddy smelled of Old Spice and cigarette smoke

And sometimes grease and solvent

If he’d been working on the car

Mama smelled kinda like Old Spice, too

Does anyone else remember Tussy cream deodorant?

I guess it was the smell of cloves they had in common

And there was always Listerine on the bathroom counter

A giant glass bottle, back before plastic took over

I’m sure we all smelled of cigarette smoke

We just didn’t realize it because everything else did, too

Our hair, our clothes, the furniture, the car

Probably even the dog, except he rarely got a bath, so he also just smelt of dog

So Old Spice, WD-40, Tussy, Listerine,  and dog

And cigarettes

Are the only smells from childhood I can fully recall

 

(Day 8 of OctPoWriMo; main prompt: scent; suggested form: free verse or sonnet)

Love in Parseltongue

Sips of sweet sangria speed the shift in senses
Sibilant sighs spill across satin sheets and silken skin
She shivers at the sound, slips loose of last pretenses
Sensing, then sure that she’ll see stars again

(OctPoWriMo 2019, Day #7, prompt: tongue, tasting, speaking, Suggested style: tongue-twister. Tongue-twisters are really hard! This is as close as I could get.)