Tag Archives: a beautiful morning

Finding Water

There’s a rooster learning to crow and it sounds nearby. My neighbor across the street showed me her baby chickens months ago, but that’s the thing about baby chicks. You don’t know what you have until they grow.

Another neighbor drove by at 8:15 on a Saturday morning. I remember those days when the kids were young and life revolved around their schedule. Sitting here at this well loved farmhouse table, with the window open listening to the windchimes, I’m happy with the season I’m in and seeing the season’s I’ve passed through makes me grateful they’re a part of my past.

I’m reading Julia Cameron, Finding Water and in this book she’s trying her best to write, but struggling with her inner critic. Julia is so aware of her inner critic, she gave it a name, Nigel, to make arguing more realistic. They have showdown fights, but considering Julia has published over 40 books, not including screenplays, I see her as the champion. I discovered I’m reading the third book in a trilogy, so I located the second one for purchase. Now to decide whether to stop where I am and wait for the second book, or continue reading.

In Finding Water, Julia is in fear of having another nervous breakdown. She’s an alcoholic who stopped drinking at 29 years of age, but she’s writing this book, trying not to drink, so she won’t have a breakdown. I find this encouraging, mainly because I’m holding this book in my hands, so I assume neither happened. Finding Water was originally published in 2006 and Julia is still alive and writing. Even while going through hell it seems that writing helped her find the way out.

I’m purchasing an old typewriter. It’ll give me a way to write without filling in another handwritten journal, or looking at a screen. Julia and I are very similar in we write by looking out a window, it’s all about the view, or by taking a walk for inspiration. A new view is on my list next year, and it’ll be somewhere near water.

I can finish writing a book looking at water and you never know when you’ll need to refill a bucket or two. It’s the perfect book title because reading it feels like finding water, until the time is right to go in search of your very own. Here’s to finding water.

Resources: https://juliacameronlive.com/

The Trilogy of books include: The Artists Way, Walking in this World, and Finding Water.

Practice the Toot

I went for my morning walk. If I can get out the door by 7:00 am, the air is cool, crisp and a delight to the senses. That didn’t happen this morning, it was more like 8:30 am, but I went anyway.

Stepping into my front yard, I hear a car coming down the road, but didn’t think much of it until I heard the horn. It was my neighbor from the end of the street and he always toots his horn when driving by. When I was a kid and on up into my 20’s, that was considered a greeting when someone tooted their car horn. It was to get your attention so you’d look their way to see them smiling and waving at you.

Maybe you didn’t realize the car horn was once used as a kind gesture. Similar to making your bed first thing in the morning, and putting the grocery cart into the cart return. These tasks aren’t new, it’s how we were raised.

My truck is over 10 years old and I cannot recall the last time I tooted my horn, if ever. To do this, you press on the horn with two, quick presses so it goes toot, toot. It’s something that will need practice, so the next time I leave home, I’ll have to drive by my neighbors house to practice the toot.

The First Hour

The dogs know when they see me flip over the sand timer, I’m going to tap the keys for 30 minutes. That’s how long the sand will run, and about as long as I’m good sitting in one spot. I remember when I first started Blogging, I could sit here for hours, and the posts were long. That changed over time. Maybe time revealed how valuable it is. It the one thing we spend that will not return, so try to use it wisely.

I woke up early this morning and it was still dark outside. I didn’t dare turn on the bedside lamp, or the dogs would think it was time to get up. They don’t move until they see the new day streaming in through the windows. It’s cloudy, so the day was here without them knowing it. I sat in darkness and listened to the stillness of the house. I could hear warm air coming in through the vents and was grateful for heat. I knew if I pulled the chain of the lamp beside me, it would illuminate the room, so I was grateful for electricity. There were many things to be grateful for, even the bed I was sitting on, blanketed in warmth.

Leo Babauta says, “There’s a deliciousness to the early morning.” We get to choose to roll out of bed and dive into the day, or wake up early to greet it. The first hour is sacred, and sets the tone for the rest of day.

I walked through the house, lit a candle, and made a cup of coffee. There is one lamp burning brightly as I sit at my desk and type. A nearby clock is ticking more loudly than my typing, but the house remains still. The sand timer has emptied, but I’m not ready to move just yet, because once I do, the house will spring to life. Thank you for sitting here with me in this stillness of the first hour.