I just accomplished the Thursday task of preparing and taking out the garbage and recycling. I return to my stool at the kitchen island and pick up my notebook. I am working on the draft for my next meditation book. As I read, I sip on my first cup of coffee. I have put off and basically forgotten to eat breakfast. When I am in creative or task mode, all things seem to move to the back of my mind. Except that now as I sit here, in front of my notebook, I have discovered that my stomach is beginning to grumble.
I go to the counter and pick out the nectarine that is the size of a baseball, not a hardball, but a really nice sized softball. I take a big bite. Red and golden yellow skin covers the sweet ever so slightly mildly crisp crunch of that first juicy bite. That first bite lets me know that I am suddenly starving. Pen in hand, nectarine in the other I continue to write… pausing only to wipe the juice from my hand and fingers onto the napkin, before it has the chance to run down my wrist and arm. The napkin is now painted with pale pink juice. Down to the core, I study the rusty red pit covered with glossy nectarine strings. I nibble the last few bits of fruit from the pit, kiss it goodbye, feeling sad that it vanished so quickly.
I give a brief sigh… I smile… there is always the solace in another cup of coffee. I wash my fingers… pour the coffee… and return to write more words.
I pick up my pen in the same way I pick up clay, ink, paper, paint, thread, and all sorts of other tools and materials that soothe my creative spirit. The creative spirit is that insistent itch that won't leave me alone until I pick up that pen or other material of choice and begin to create something.
It is my creative spirit, it is our creative spirit that directs and leads us in new directions, new thoughts, and new processes that encourage, enhance, and embrace our hopes and dreams. Dream, play, doodle, create, and make your own special mark on life's page.