I wake at 6:46 am. Willi has moved to the top of the bed and his head is tucked in beside mine on the pillow. I feel the hardness of our two skulls touching. I think about what these hard encasements of bone protect and contain. I think about how the brain is to a very large degree an involuntary organ. From the moment I become half conscious I am aware of an endless series of thoughts and half sentences that have been forming quite merrily on their own. Each phrase is about something else. My brain, when it is left to its own devices, quite gingerly vomits up thoughts and half finished ideas at me.
I finally get up at 7:03 am. I groggily walk down the hall to the kitchen and nearly step into a small circular patch of cold dog vomit on the kitchen floor. Willi threw up again in the middle of the night. Wonderful…delightful! How much vomiting will my poor little dog have to do before we finally get to the heart of this problem? And so a new day is beginning…but I am not finished.
I sponge up the dog vomit. I make decaf. I brush away all the thoughts coming at me about how I don’t have time to write my morning pages. I pour a cup of coffee and sit down at the dining room table and write three pages of longhand brain drain right at the bastards. My hand vomits my thoughts onto the page, my handwriting nearly incomprehensible. By the end of the pages, which are filled with nothing more than a stream of fresh random thoughts similar to the ones I had woken up with, I am ready to start.
The inner saboteur has shut up, and I am past the gate keeper. There are no inner voices making excuses or scaring me to death about the future. There is only now. Everything can wait. I am here, in the moment, in full concert with my involuntary noisy, chatty human brain. Holy cow!
My mind is ready and open; my hands are willing and eager to make something shimmer. As I write this, my last entry of January 2003, what comes to mind are vivid shades of sunset. The drive home last night, the digital clock on the dashboard of my car reading 6:00 pm and a translucent gradient of blue and yellow tint at the horizon; a deep, warm inner stirring in the depths of my being, that winter is finally, ever so slightly yielding its grip on us. Time is certainly moving us towards the lighter, warmer, more hopeful youth of spring.
And so a new day begins…
Another great entry. What else is there to say?
You know that particular shade of green that I absolutely absolutely hate? Yeah, you know the one. Well....I'm all green.
Thanks for putting your thoughts out there. This was a great thing for me to read today.
I will comment on your new image which is another good choice. Interesting how sometimes an image speaks for itself...
Ray of lights...
It is sad to think that a little creature like willi has to reject something that is relevant to life...food and yet something is calling for expulsion...strange...
Let the sunshine in
Ah yes, SPRING! I always set my sights on it when each new year begins. It is definitely something to look forward to! It always feels good to have something to look forward to, doesn't it? Ahhhh ... Spring. :)
I do hope Willi gets better soon. Poor little guy. :(
Yvette, thanks for your supportive words...it's great to get confirmation on my writing.
Robert, thanks for taking the time to comment and appreciating my melodramas in decaf. I know that you get it when it's good...and I'm sorry to hear about your green color.
Alexandre, thanks for showing your concern for Willi. He's such a great dog...and sad and frustrating that we have not gotten to the root of what is ailing him. But we are narrowing it down. Also, thanks for the compliments about the new "rays of light" look and feel. The "New Year’s Eve" theme had outlived its own atmosphere.
Leigh, thanks for leaving your comments and for being a generous contributor to the site. As always...I know you get it...thanks for reading, it means a lot to me.