Get Rid of the Dust

I run around all day long trying to do things. A lot of the time, if I do
"things", I feel good, and if I don't, I feel bad. Go Go Go. I fill my hours with activities, and if I can't, I fill them with distractions. Do Do Do. I ride up and down on this rollercoaster, sprinting from what I have to have done to what I have to do. Run Run Run. Lately, I've taken to writing down lists of what I do AFTER I do them, so I can feel better.

Good Bad Better Worse.

Sometimes being creative is really, really hard work. Sometimes, I think it's my thinking it's really hard work that makes it hard work.

Odiouswoman reminded me that sometimes what we need, or sometimes what is happening, is a fallow period-- a moment where we rest, and allow nature, allow our subconscious to digest all the running and doing and going.

There's something to be said for trusting the subconscious, those parts of us that we don't listen to as often as we should. There's something to be said for learning to breathe deep, to sit still, and to live consciously-- allowing what is trying to be born to grow in its own time.

A kid came into my bar today. Young, only 21, the other bartender commented on how sweet he was. "Like fresh grass," she said and that he'd probably get dirtied up as he got older. "But you don't have to get jaded," I said. I don't want to be jaded anymore-- although the dirt keeps settling on me, the dirt of everything I have to do to live.

"Get rid of the dust," the kid said, "that's what we need to do."

I suppose that's what I'm working on.