I feel pregnant with ideas and I must write about them. My awakening to consciousness is bringing so much light into my life – but with light comes heat. And too much heat is no good. I need an outlet to express my newfound passion. I’m on fire with love and compassion – a fire which does not consume but rather motivates. I want to fill my hiking pack with paper and pens and climb a secluded hill and look out over life and capture it’s reflections in ink.
But not today. There’s too much work to do. I hear you! Work can wait, it will still be there, but perhaps your passion may be fleeting! But then therein lies the dilemma. If I set work aside to write, there is a cost – the consequence of unfinished business. And when I do write, knowing that it is not leisurely creates tremendous pressure – so little time, your words must be perfect – Hurry! I rush my thoughts onto the paper and take no pleasure in what’s written. Of course it is not good. What did you expect?
I dream of a day when I'll wake up, alone. A writing desk in the corner. Paper. Pens. Time. Solitude. Amen - my prayer for today.