Big List

I'm thinking about a big list for August. Or maybe a small list. But a list. And I'll turn 41. It's one of those birthdays that occurs every seven years. Supposedly I have all new tissue. Well, whether or not that's true, lately i've been feeling like I have all new tissue. And that's good enough for me.

Besides, everybody knows that myth creates reality.

My hands are falling asleep...

Writing when I want to. That’s not what it’s about. It’s about writing when you don’t want to, saying something when you’re just not sure, yet, what you want to say. Not writing feels, sometimes, like sitting on my own hands. Like Addie stubbornly refusing to brush her teeth. Pure willfulness that results in unhappy scuttles. The strange inclination we humans have to do things that aren’t good for us.

I tell myself it’s an issue of time. That I just don’t have the hours in a day. That my day shrinks down from all sides. That in my free moments I am too tired to think. But it’s the thinking of “I’m tired” that makes me most tired of all. And I know that when I do, do, do something that matters to me, something creative, it’s the best kind of rest I can get.