Always There IS Time
Need a freewrite to start. Can’t focus on any one project or effort or diluted direction. I just need to write freely, just for a few minutes after the crazy morning I had.. this writing father trying to orchestrate and control so much and sometimes you feel it getting away from your grips then everything for a split second or maybe even a whole second falls into your palm. Right now, I feel a little of both. Have to be in class in just under 4 hours, have to pick something up on the way to campus, somehow have to find a way to shave, shower, iron something to wear…. It can all get done, I tell myself. I know how the student feels, how they balance everything they do, then have work and some a family atop, just to garnish the already existing stress. But this freewrite is my anesthesia, my momentary panacea… we’ll see.
Can’t afford to waste any time, not even one of those micro or split-seconds. None of us can. We have to make use of all our moments, even though we might be stressed or overwhelmed or just downright in a bad mood, spiteful with all around us… we’ve all felt that and been there. But this morning, I’m doing what I know I need, to write more than freely, to write as though I’m not even writing… right now, I just feel like I’m breathing and some tapestry of words propels, just flies around the room. Everything around me is a platform for me… all around you can be and should be used, not spited or looked at with rancor. No.. everything has positive charge, everything is meant to elevate. Positively charged Nowness, Newness… all around me, even in the mess my babies left this morning, trying to dodge me as they ran around the house like hunted turkeys. I caught them, and didn’t see this echo of chaos they behind them left, for me. Makes me laugh now.
Putting on my usual station, Bobby Hutcherson, and one of the songs from the Snoopy soundtrack or something comes on. Feeling more relaxed… we all need this. No matter how busy you are as a student or working parent or working parent that also goes to school… you need to make time for you. If you don’t write freely, find something that is freeing. Preferably, and this isn’t just the English “teacher” in me talking, not TV or a movie… something healthy, or mentally motioned. Not sure if now I’m focused or not, but I do appreciate and value this moment that I’m in… a galactic shift and shimmy across the keys, centering my character into some more postured Personhood. I’m like all the wild mushrooms in Annadel, in the Fall and Winter after a rain… dictating the scape and scope of the soil… adding to the picture, the frame. I grip to this set of letters like they to the loam, or mud, or some volcanic blend of planet.
I’m settled. I’m free. I’m composed, I believe, for day. Do the same for yourself. Always be free, and found, and you write the tempo and touch of what you do.