wintertree-2Somehow,  I waste time when I should be able to reinvest it into a zen approach to writing.  That is, settling my heart and mind toward an adventure in writing.  I caught myself almost saying “Productive” but being productive is not necessarily zen (at least not the way I understand it!)  so  I resist that urge.  It’s so difficult –  I want to use the time wisely but not be so bound that I can’t have freedom.   It’s a struggle – to break free, but write.

 I saw a post about friday randomness.  Maybe that is what this is.  I started out wasting time, tried to focus on a task and completed it (partially).  Now I’m trying to write and break out of the mold I’ve poured myself into. Easy to say.  I don’t know how else I could improve my heart and writing without it.  It’s that breaking out that I”m waiting for.  And when it happens, it feels so good.  That suddenly relaxing, the tension just draining back into the soul of the earth.  Sure, they will be back.   So, the shape of my heart is somewhat broken, caused by all the corrosion of life, so I don’t expect perfection.  I expect rough spots,  I expect a difficulty in settling,  I expect a stirred up condition.  Right now,  I’m trying to open up to newest even as my internal filters remove ideas.  See I said this wasn’t easy.  Just melting into the cold blue winter sky, the tree skeletons scratching the sky.   I’m those branches – thrust out in the cold, feeling the breezes and wondering when warmth will return.



December Morning

5 Dec 08