Notes to Myself
Sometimes I wonder why it's difficult for me to write about specific things. It seems that I would rather write about general things and stay on the surface of what I write. I envy writers who are able to write with so much detail and freedom. I inhibit myself like there is always something wrong with what I'm about to say.
There are times that I do feel like writing with abandon. And in those moments I am graced with just the perfect rhythm. I begin to see everything as it is and I am comfortable with everything. I become comfortable with my chair and my desk. The lamp dimly lit on my table. The electric fan buzzing by the side. The silence in my room. The mosquito fluttering infront of my nose. The queasiness of my stomach while I wait for dinner. The pile of reports that are due tomorrow. The nagging of issues that remain unresolved at work. Those times are perfect and I wish I had more of them.
Today I was grateful for the morning drive. It was perfect. I wasn't in a hurry to get to work. A blessed preaching on my iPod filled me with rest and ease. The thoughts that cluttered my mind the day before were put to a quiet and I realized again how important it is to keep renewing my mind to the promises filled with hope.