Free Write Fling–May and Seeds

It’s about slowing down. Cause if I try to push too hard I will feel deprived. That’s what I am doing this morning. I could have rushed off to the YMCA for a workout or I could be emailing and setting up appointments but today I needed time to write. To eat a good breakfast and to shower, put away laundry and dress in comfy clothes. This morning it was about the fruit in my cereal and the veggies in my lunch. And posting a new creation to the blog.

Last night Mike and I took time to walk at Moosewood’s Bog walk and we played. I found that the bushes in the bog where releasing pollen with a bit of coxing. So we tapped branches and caught pollen clouds. Soon we were tossing branches into the midst of the bog and releasing bigger clouds of pollen. Yellow green clouds drifting on the breeze we started using the continuous function on the cameras to capture clouds as they moved. This much to the dismay of a couple of birders who had been hoping to capture a rare bird with their cameras. Sigh. So sorry. I suppose we looked like children—I know we felt like it.

My state of being has to do with my choices.

I am reading “Poemcrazy” and I love this line in chapter 18, “Nanny had an almost obsessive need for light, for curtains open all the way and for quiet.”

Ritual. At night I must close the curtains and shades just before bed. To block the streetlights. I have never grown use to the light of the city. I love the encompassing dark of the woods. I love the darkness of the beach and dunes at night. I am a country girl. Come morning I must have light. I open things wide. In the bedroom we have crystals hanging by fish line off the curtain rod. I slide them along the rod so the sun catches them just so and fills the room with rainbows.

Quiet. I hear the hum of the municipal power plant down the hill on the shoreline. I love it when power goes out. The hum of the world stops. I can breathe better. I can feel the sphenoid wings in my brain open large and my crown chakra lets dreams in deep.

Migraines are like a noise you cannot stop. Congestion. Cloudy. Heavy and pressured. Sometimes they come from storm fronts. Sometimes they come from a vibration or frequency, like feedback in a concert hall. Sometimes the aurora of color comes as warning and blessing of beauty. Sometimes my words come out in jumbled sentences and I cannot capture my stream of thought and communicate. The noise of my mind reminds me to get off-grid. To walk the Yellow Dog. To breathe in cold dark air away from powerlines.

May day. Tiny willow leaves like tears dripping down, soft trees. Yellow and green, tender trees.

I want to share my last two freewrites but they have to do with my “day job” and I cannot share I was processing some grief and worry. I love the children I work with. Sometimes I lose sleep at night. Sometimes I cry. But I moved into the next morning with Yoga, and ended the night in song with May and Seth, Rachel and Steppin’ In It.

I love the song called “Seeds”. I love May and how she reminds me to slow down. Moving fast does not honor our lives. “I am walking on these seeds/ I am being just as careful as I can.” What we sow…Oh “they’re going to keep on growing.” Karma Baby.

I am breathing this morning. Some may call this hiding from what is needing to be done. But the laundry is placed in drawers and hanging loosely on hangers. The sun is shining rainbows thru the place I sleep and I am in love with my playful self and my playful Mike. Our lives can be magic.

(This is a freewrite only loosely spell-checked and not meant to be grammatically correct and fully formed—it is a sharing of my heart)

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About kimnixon

Upper Peninsula Michigan Artist and Writer

Posted on May 4, 2009, in Freewrite Fling and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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