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.
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