What Freedom Will You Offer Yourself Today?

My normal routine is to wake up excited to face the day and whatever creative endeavors rise up to meet me within the twenty-four house ahead. This morning it was a different story.

This morning I stayed under my very girly pink comforter snuggling in the warmth with my purple build-a-bear without the gumption necessary to swing my feet off the comforting resting space and onto the floor to face my day.

I didn’t even get up early enough to make Emma’s lunch.

This weekend was long and not entirely fantastic. Yes, I had some accomplishments. My garage is now much cleaner and more organized than it was Saturday morning. I moved forward on some art projects. I had lunch with friends, I read quite a bit, I chatted women’s literature over coffee.

This is all good, so way the malaise this morning?

I plucked a thought out of the air which turned into a bright yellow light bulb into my hand.

I hadn’t made the time and space to write this weekend. I had lamented my sisterhood with Virginia Woolf, “I need a space of my own!” and I had tried more than once to sit at my desk and allow the words to tumble forth.

Instead, I sat at my desk and got grouchy.

My usual desk time is more like boogeying down the street, words jockeying to be collected and strung together, beads on a necklace.

I prefer quiet or maybe some classical music.

I am spoiled: in my usual day I have quite a large chunk of time to write in this peaceful setting I create for myself.

The long weekend meant more people underfoot who are jockeying to be heard and don’t allow the space for the words to take their normal space.

I finally willed myself out of rest this morning and as Samuel ate his breakfast, I wrote my morning pages writing my way into the question “What could I have done differently?”

I could have taken my notebook on a field trip and written under the sunshine we had this weekend. I could have gone to any of my favorite nature haunts or coffee shop haunts or gallery haunts.

I didn’t choose that, I chose to whine and complain.

I could have gone to a friend’s house and written there. I could have even used a borrowed computer so I could get my blogging done.

Instead, I dug in my heels and whined about the woe-is-me-or-is-it-I situation that faced me.

I didn’t lift my pen to paper nor did I seek someone else’s computer to write.

The yellow light bulb of awareness rang a bell pronouncing “Hello, you’ve got it!”

Today I could punish myself for being so foolish and shortsighted.

Instead, I am offering myself a free pass through the punitive room in my mind. I offer myself freedom rather than self-punishment.

I’ll take it.

I notice now that I’ve noticed the words are flowing.

They just needed me to open the gate and stop fighting the what or where or how is in whatever moment I live.