In the Writers Studio, where I’ve been a student for ten years and a teacher for two, we talk a lot about connection. As in, connecting to our truest, deepest feelings about our lives.
And sometimes, as I look down on the long shadows and dead leaves scattered across the sidewalk, or as I’m lying in the darkened bedroom, the baby playing with my fingers as he nurses and drifts to sleep, I see: it’s all right here.
Why do I keep missing it?
These four sentences were originally scrawled onto a pad as I squatted just inside the entrance to the grocery store late Sunday afternoon and are linked up with Just Write at the Extraordinary Ordinary.
{ 4 comments… read them below or add one }
This is so beautiful, Rachael. Trying to maximize the amount of time we spend in THAT space is what it’s all about. But it’s so hard. I keep missing it, too. But, then again, we come back to it, too. Which is also important to note.
PS London not happening. Sooooooo bummed.
Christine @ Quasi Agitato recently posted… Choice Schmoice.
I miss so much too. I keep my head too far ahead or behind.
Christie Tate recently posted… Is That My Future I Smell?
I often wish in those moments of real feeling that I had an auto-pen in my head – jotting down everything I’m thinking in the moment. Wouldn’t that be the best, truest form of writing?
kelly @kellynaturally recently posted… Go to Your Baby
It’s so easy to miss it, for me. So easy. Cutting through the noise and the mess is something that doesn’t come naturally, I fear.
But I’m trying. I am.
Amber recently posted… Places I Have Found Rotting Fruit