I’ve been writing furiously the past few days. Scrawled notes in my little little softcover notebook, pages and pages in my journal and (often undecipherable) taps to myself on my smartphone. A picture comes to mind of a cup, quite literally, running over it’s narrow rim.
Yesterday was wildly unproductive in the “crossing things off a list” regard. Having indulged in my own private “thought circus” I found myself heading down the rabbit hole … again.
(I’ll tackle the list today with a little more resolve. It writes itself as I navigate through the house.: a tub to scrub, laundry to do, a package to prepare, dust bunnies …)
Then I’ll take a few moments to listen to the quiet murmur of my heart and I will step into the day. Soft. Steady. Beats. I will bring my silence to the cacophony of noise that is the world these days, and allow space for my real work to come through.