This Sunday I am relaxing like Homer Simpson at Big Sur. From lululemon photo shoots to Aveda events, the past two weeks have been full-on fun and excitement. Long days filled with heart-stoking work and short evenings spent with my pups and loved ones.
So, this Sunday is all about recharging and enlarging my creative light.
No errands. No chores. No work emails. No business. No busyness.
Today, I am in the back pasture. Me arse is parked in my Adirondack chair. Listening to Todd Snider and my garden sparrows. Sipping Irish tea. Writing and sketching in my journal. Writing without an assignment or a deadline.
Instead of forsaking writing because I am too damn busy, I am writing for the sake of writing.
Like when I was a kid.
The 13 year old girl, who trekked through the ravine with backpack stashed with journal, pen, mandarin oranges, and a Charleston Chew. To my Castle Willow Tree. My fortress and hideout.
There, I wrote for the sake of writing…for the love of writing.
No deadline demands. No publishing commands.
I suppose this is why I still love taking hikes, with a backpack stashed with journal, pen…and nowadays a fresh Cali tangerine and a tootsie pop. To a fortress and hideout. Sometimes it’s a rock at Hendry’s Beach. Other times a tree trunk at Tucker’s Grove.
Today, it’s a short hike through my courtyard to my Adirondack chair. Arms full of journal, pen, tea and cinnamon rolls.
Writing for the sake of writing. Writing for the love of writing.
Into the land of forgotten commands and demands.
To the place where I remember and reconnect with that 13 year old girl.
The one who always knew she was a writer and poet.
And will always be.
Words without end.