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.

We’re back and I am putting the finishing touches on my instructions.  Not great, but I’m trying and practicing on thinking logically.  I hope there’s sense and order in the directions.

The chicken soup is ready.  Do you find this helpful in any way?