Today I gave myself a voluptuous fifteen minutes to free write across the page. Why voluptuous? Well, I was sitting in my recliner. My son had made his way to his school bus, I had yet to make my daughter's lunch but I knew she was awake and as for me, I felt quite full still from yesterday.
I had fallen asleep with my notebook on my night stand and a pen.
I purposefully asked myself questions prior to sleep.
I mindfully crafted a gratitude list in the dark. It is sort of readable today.
As I free wrote I contemplated the death of a celebrity that had people gossiping and cluckety clucking. He died of an overdose, apparently. I pondered what if he had died doing service or what if he had died of a sudden heart attack. Would we be tittering and clucking if that was the case?
I doubt it.
Samuel was looking for real estate this morning on his tablet computer. His face glowed in the semi-dark. "Here is a house I can buy when I move to Redman" (a town in Washington that happens to also be the home of Nintendo, USA.)
I asked about specifics. "It has four bedrooms and three baths!" he said excitedly.
My twelve-year-old is a forward facing thinker who also wants to own a bus when he lives in Redman so he can drive a bunch of loved ones around so we can share roadtrip vacations for our entire life spans, the extra seats needed for his sister's children and spouses of the future.
We laugh on roadtrips.
We all belong exclusively - for the most part - to one another. Sure, we have visitors over the cell phone whose voices are heard among all of us. There really is no space for privacy or secrets, which I imagine makes him feel safe amidst too many anxious thoughts - one of the legacies he is learning to cope with as he journeys along the path of the autism spectrum.
My voluptuous writing continued to flash across the page: a list of 14 kind things to say to people morphed into a weekly question on my Writing Camp Facebook page. I remembered people want to hear what they want to hear. What I want to tell them is fine, but most people have their own ideas - the platinum concept of "Do undo others as they would like me to do unto them." or "say unto others as they would like you to say unto them."
We tend to be so self-centered, even when attempting to be other-centered.
I am writing this several hours later and am listening to a poetry podcast "in the background" as I review my words from earlier today.
This poet is so passionate in his words.
I love his reading. Through his voice my love for poetry stays alive.
His voice is more than slightly cliche as I suppose many of the poets among us are without even meaning to be.
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Julie Jordan Scott is a writer, creative life coach, speaker, performance poet, Mommy and mixed-media artist. Her word-love themed art will be for sale at a First Friday soon, when it is warmer than it was in December!, in Downtown Bakersfield. Check out the links below to follow her on a bunch of different social media channels, especially if you find the idea of a Word-Love Party bus particularly enticing.
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