Quiet Still Room

talking, collecting, caring for, busy, productive, projects, information, talking~ all of it a ready distraction that fills up my space and controls the time and energy. welcome to duh moment number 9,302,475,098,103,094.

i haven't ever been the brooding, quiet in the corner taking it all in writer. i am the one who spins from the center of the storm, who bemoans the drama and life excesses with a pledge to not live the stories but write them. no surface in my house, no page of calendar or moment in my day doesn't have some thing poised and prepped for filling up whatever space might present itself.

this insistence on filling up not only pretty well guarantees that the unexpected, you know, where the magic lives, don't have much of a chance, rather the miracles need miracles themselves in order to manifest in my life. ouch.

i have done some great work on opening up space recently- in my home. my heart, not so much~ more a healing place, but that's the work to make the room, right?

time to break out the Rilke. time to listen to my own advice and impose even greater routines so the muses and their bags of miracles will know when and where to find me. it's called the open space of the soul required to stop, look and listen to the QUESTIONS. and if you are lucky ~ you will live long enough to know and revel in the answers.