We said good-bye to our good friends Tom and Sue Bender. We had a great time. Sue is a sun bunny and loves to read and knit. Tom loves to fish, hang with Jim, read and nap. And we ALL like a COCKTAIL. It was a lovely visit.

They actually left on Friday but it seems like yesterday. Who knows where the days go. I think someone is messing with the calendar. Time has become a funny, elusive concept to me. Once upon a time, my entire life was on a schedule. As a photojournalist (my previous incarnation during this lifetime) deadlines were daily and sometimes quite tight. I guess this is pretty typical of most peoples' lives, especially in this society. EVERYTHING is scheduled and so MUCH is crammed into a schedule, madness sets in quickly. And stress. And feelings of longing for the time to do self indulgent things.

Life is so different for me now. There is plenty to do, mind you. But somehow the importance of getting any one thing done on a schedule has faded. It no longer matters whether it is Tuesday or Sunday or Thursday. Jim often says, "Every day is Saturday. Except Sunday, which is Sunday." We often forget the day.

About nine months ago, a friend recommended the book "The Nine Modern Day Muses and a Body Guard." (author’s name not immediately available) The whole book points out those major and common blocks to our creativity and creative time. And it offers simple strategies for dealing with the block of the moment. Over the course of the past nine months, I’ve tried out a few of these strategies. They have really helped.

Now, when I get up in the morning, instead of checking my electronic calendar, I check in with myself. I think about the creative pursuits in my life and decide which ones need growing that day, which ones need a rest, and which ones match the energy that is available that day. Once upon a time, I would have dived into chores that HAD to be done before I could possibly indulge myself in anything so utterly self absorbed as quilting, or knitting, or watching the sun sparkle on the water, or listening to the leaves rattle in the breeze.

Amazingly, it makes little difference if the cleaning isn’t done for a few extra days. And no matter how empty the fridge seems, there always seems to be enough for a simple meal. Everything in the MUST DO column became negotiable. Now, most of these chores get done when I have the least mental energy. Why oh why should I waste my moments of greatest mental focus pushing around a vacuum cleaner.

Anyway, back to the time thing. Over the course of rearranging my priorities to fit ME, the concept of time has begun to fade. Time as a linear thing is fuzzy. I know it passes. Things do get done, not because it is Friday or 10 am, they get done because the moment is right. Instead of chasing after it, trying to get control of it, time now follows behind somewhere, out of view. Time is like a shadow, it is usually present but not something I focus on very often.

Sometimes I think back to the schedule I had as a photojournalist and wonder, if I had questioned just some of the “MUST DO’S,” if life would have been more sane. . . . .


“I believe normal is just a cycle on the washing machine.”
From the poem “Creed” by Meg Kearney