writing writing

i want to start free style writing again. you know like from the artist way book...morning pages...stream of consciousness...whatever comes to mind. it is a good practice to get into if you like to write. there is a great freedom here in allowing the words to just spill out onto the page. no pressure...no expectations...meander and roam at will.

okay so you get the gist. like a diary. sort of.

diary...wow...i haven't truly had a diary since i was a young teen. i would write these lists of things i wanted to buy. i had a paper route and i would so look forward to getting paid so i could buy music. albums. like...real albums. they were so big weren't they? now everything is small. teeny tiny things. back then the idea of having a zillion songs stored on an ipod would have seemed...well...nuts.

speaking of small things...i think our attention spans are smaller too. i know mine is. i am used to all this disjointed information coming from all kinds of sources...sound bites...quick little *pop* *pop* *pop* in your face bits and pieces of the world. and most of the information...we don't even care about. someone is telling us we should care. it is too much. so we shut down and end up not being able to attend to anything.

i don't even know how to relax anymore. we need books for this to tell us how. sad really. we always think we should be doing something. evidently right now we are to be concerned about the holidays and getting everything done right now! i don't want to. i want to sit here and really get into thanksgiving.

it is like our lives are not to be enjoyed but each event is something to hurry through and get done with.

i want my time.

i want to slow.....down.....time.

long ago i went for a vacation in lancaster pennsylvania. i know...i am an odd bird. but...i love the amish. i do. always have. i have a deep respect for them. it is such blasphemy that they are a tourist attraction...the exact opposite of what they are supposed to be all about. however...i stayed on a farm in amish country. the farmer and his family were not amish but...it was close enough for me to savor the experience. i remember sitting outside on the big 'ol porch on the porch swing. oh how i love me a porch swing. and...i was almost freaked out by...number one...how dark it was...no street lamps glaring...no bright lights...no nothing. and secondly...it was so damn quiet. you have to understand i came from the city where every night was a cacophony of sounds...the boom boxes in cars thumping...the sirens blaring...fireworks...train whistles...the whole shebang.

so the quiet of that little farm was...unnerving.

but i like it.

it is that way in my mind too. so much noise, distraction, and chaos. it is so hard to be still.

it is okay to be quiet. it is okay to let the worries wait. it is okay to...not think of anything important. it is okay to let yourself be.

but so terribly hard.

let go this evening with me. still your mind and just be.

tell me how it goes.