I sit on my bed, staring off into space, listening to the sound of the seconds tick away on the clock. I am supposed to be writing, but at the moment, I am thinking about how I’ve never owned a clock that actually ticked before, and wondering why I have chosen to have one now. My street is strangely quiet, with just an occasional barking dog or tweeting bird breaking the silence.
I wish my windows let in more direct sunlight. I’m afraid that my one houseplant is going to die from a lack of sun. It’s a begonia that I planted from clippings taken from one of my grandmother’s ancient plants she had when she was still alive. I feel like letting this plant die would somehow be like letting my grandmother die again. She put so much of herself into her plants, and now I’m watching as one of her last remaining progeny slowly wilts under my unskilled efforts.
Writing.., right. What am I going to write about? I have a list of topics to work on for my blog, but I seem to be blocked every time I start to work on one of them. I’m not feeling in the best headspace for writing about meditation right now. I’ve been practicing every day, but I have been pretty distracted. I also haven’t been sleeping very well, so there’s that. I just have to plant my butt in my chair and sit until some words start flowing onto the page.
Man, she has an amazing smile. She looked incredible in that dress the other night too.
Ahem. Writing. Writing. Writing. I need to write something. Maybe I should just start writing random words and see what happens. Geranium, motorcycle, onomatopoeia, Montgomery…
I’m going to check Twitter real quick. I’m tweeting about my creative block. Pretty soon one of my Twitter connections suggests I try edibles. It’s 9:30 in the morning. I don’t know if edibles right now would really be a recipe for success for me. I don’t really partake in cannabis that often, so the effects are always a bit hard for me to predict. I could either become super productive and get a lot done, or I could grab a bag of chips and some salsa and get absolutely nothing done.
Now I’m starting to hear some activity outside. It’s Sunday, so the restaurants next door to me are generally pretty busy for brunch service. A women is cackling like a bird from one of the nearby patios. She seems to be having a good time, based on the frequency and volume of her laugh. Man, she is really going at it. I don’t know that I’ve ever laughed as much as she is.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath in, and then a deep breath out. I open my eyes and place my fingers on the keyboard. I stare at my screen. I look down at my phone. “No!” I admonish myself, “You are not here to send text messages or tweet, you are here to write.”
I pick up my phone. I scroll for a minute, then turn off the phone and return to my computer. I look up at the tree outside. The wind is blowing a little, making the leaves sway like I do when I’m listening to music while on edibles. Maybe I should go to the shop and get some edibles. I haven’t had one in a while. Who knows, maybe it would inspire me.
Seriously, I have to focus on writing. I go back to my notes to see if I can find anything that I could be working on right now. I want to get three posts out this week, but at this point it would be nice to even get one done. Let’s see, I could do the one about compassion and confrontation. Or, I could try my hand at the clever title involving a papancha pun. That’s some inside baseball shit that I don’t think I have fleshed out enough to work on yet. There has to be something here.
A group of birds are singing and fluttering around outside my window. It won’t be much longer before fall weather hits in full force, so I hope that they are enjoying the last gasps of sunshine and warm temperatures. I’ve already started to see a few early adopter trees getting ahead of the game and starting to shed their leaves. It seems a little agro to be dropping leaves right now, like the trees are purposefully trying to rub it in our faces that summer is over. I know, it’s a great demonstration of impermanence and everything, but come on.
I shake my head a little and look back at my computer screen. My hands are starting to tingle a little bit from having been resting on the keyboard in the same position for two long. I stretch out my fingers, pop a couple of knuckles, and replace my hands on the keys, ready for action. When I think about it, this whole process has been kind of like meditation. I focus on writing, then I get distracted over and over again, but I keep coming back to my writing. Okay, nice try with the simile there, but it’s a bit of a stretch, don’t you think? Well, I’m not writing anything else right now, so I might as well write about that. Maybe it will at least get the juices flowing. Who knows, maybe I’ll post it.
Then I can go get some edibles.