According to the clock on the wall, I’ve slept in. it is 8:30, and I know the animals will be anxious to be fed; Moxie will need to go outside to her yard. Even before I look out the window I know it is a rainy morning.I can hear the swishy sound of tires on wet pavement. I can feel the cool breeze as it plays with the light curtain. I can smell the dampness of the leaves.
I think I hear the sigh of the brown grass in the front lawn as it pulls the moisture down into dry roots.
Plans previously made will have to be put on hold. I must admit, I am thankful for a down day. My pile of rainy day projects jeer at me from the yellow bin along the wall, and I pull out a necklace that needs repair. I print the twelve chapters of my latest project to re-read before I continue writing.
But there’s something about today that I want to savor for a bit before changing directions. Breathe it in, try it on, and luxuriate in the rain.
When I go for my walk, I will not be taking an umbrella.
I gather things to do around me like a dragon hoarding jewels. My to-do list is always pages long. Books are stacked waiting to be read. Occasionally I re-stack them, changing my mind on the order in which they are to be read. Craft projects lay patiently waiting. I bought their ingredients in good faith.
I gave boxes of fabric way to someone who didn’t say thank you, and who will probably never use the colorful prints I had carefully chosen. Although that makes me feel sad, the yardage would have faired no better here. The fabric I did keep is still stockpiled.
What am I waiting for? I am easily distracted, easily overwhelmed. I spend days re-organizing the piles, tucking my supplies away in the shed, or the closet under the stairs. I buy new shelves that bulge under the weight. When I look at my supplies, I no longer feel energized and excited. I merely feel tired.
I love the idea of being a minimalist. I love open spaces. I love getting things accomplished. Looks like it’s time to make a change, and ‘get ‘er done!’