Feel the Music

Last week I saw Rascal Flatts in an old episode of CSI Las Vegas and wondered, “Where’d he go?”

This morning a fellow Blogger popped into my mind. I hadn’t read anything from them in a while, so I went to their page just to make sure I hadn’t missed a post. No, but I saw it’s been a couple of months since they’ve posted, so I filled in the online form letting them know they’re missed.

Every Writer hears the inner critic telling us to lay down the pen, and we justify it with, “Nobody will notice.” Oh my darling, I notice.

This Blogger has a page of quotes, and I copied the quote below to share. After reading it, I was going to post only the quote and title the Blog, “My Wish”. That reminded me of a song by Rascal Flatts which I’d sing for my daughter, so I Googled the song. Then I realized tomorrow is Sunday, and I hadn’t written a feel the music in a couple of weeks, so here we are!

You can see how this post fell together with a start of two thoughts colliding. This wish is for the upcoming year.

“I hope you will have a wonderful year, that you’ll dream dangerously and outrageously, that you’ll make something that didn’t exist before you made it, that you will be loved and that you will be liked, and that you will have people to love and to like in return. And, most importantly (because I think there should be more kindness and more wisdom in the world right now), that you will, when you need to be, be wise, and that you will always be kind.” (Neil Gaiman)

And here’s another wish.

I hope you feel the love in both.

Space to Grow

I’m reading The Artist’s Way for a second time. This year my Kindle died, but instead of replacing the device, I’m replacing digital books with real ones. Julia Cameron was first on the list for replacement, and I found a whole stack of her books at a second hand sale. 🥳

The Morning pages and I have a longtime love/hate relationship. I still can’t write all three pages every morning, but one solid page is better than none. Maybe it’s something you have to build up to, like each stroke across the page is strengthening the muscle needed to go onto page 2 and then 3. I had to smile at Julia’s description of her Morning Pages in The Artist’s Way.

“In order to retrieve your creativity, you need to find it. I ask you to do this by an apparently pointless process I call the Morning Pages,” says Julia. That’s one of the things I fancy most about these spaces I’ve shared with you this week. Only one has a valid reason, and that’s only temporary. The other two are pointless, and have no solid reason behind them, but when you have no particular reason you stand before the door of possibilities.

This morning my corner wasn’t comfortable to write the Morning Pages, so I moved to the kitchen table. The first sentence said, “I don’t have much to say today,” but before long I was filling in the last line of the page. What Julia describes as an apparently pointless process, is where the magic in this simple practice is revealed.

At this stage of my life there is not a lot of reasoning behind the majority of what takes place. It’s not so much the actual space as it is allowing time within that space to grow.