It's not yet 6:30 a.m. on a Saturday. This is probably my favorite time of the week. The summer light is illuminating the neighborhood with a hazy, periwinkle sheen. Birds have awakened and are in the middle of their morning sonatina. The dog and the boy sleep peacefully in bed, where I would like to be, if not for all the non-stop excitement that ricochets in my head. I pinned an image on Pinterest that says it all:
In these waking hours, lying in bed hoping to return to sleep, I come up with my most inspiring and energetic ideas. I'm often moved to leap out of bed and begin some new project in earnest, fueled by an inner force. It feels incredible! And then...
...it's time for breakfast. Need to start the laundry. Let's go on an errand. Oh yeah, remember that other house project you've been meaning to get to? The desire to write and create is not lost but the energy has been redirected. And here is where I feel, in all my usual calm, groundedness, I experience my version of ADHD. When I return to free time, I've been distracted by another of my many interests. Between blogging, creative writing, cooking, singing, playing steel drums, gardening, photography, reading, movie watching, social networking, yoga, dancing, hiking, traveling, writing with kids, singing with kids, baking, not to mention spending quality time with my love and my family, hanging out with friends, dog walking, and keeping house. Oh yes, and my time-consuming, passion-inducing career in education!
I'm thoroughly exhausted just reading the list.
And somehow I think I can fit all this into the span of each week. Clearly, some realism could be brought to the table. Especially as one sits with a sprained ankle and crutches nearby.
Do you wrestle with crazymaking such as this?
So, I'm going to do it. It's time, and I stand here (sitting, ankle elevated!) before you to say, I'm going to write a post each morning until the end of the month. No matter what. It might be totally uninteresting or crap or any of the other things the inner censor wants to call it but I'm all right with that. Characters need to be given a space to speak before we can know and understand them. Finding that voice is step numéro uno in the vein of creation. I'm going to take advantage of my summer freedom and use it to uphold this commitment to myself.
Who will Six Giraffes be at the end? And after that?
Well, we shall see!