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What Is This Thing Called Rest?
Aug. 13th, 2017 06:41 pmFollowing the Super-Psychic advice via SnakyPoet, I am duly resting. Resting from attempting to re-educate myself in matters tarot or oracle cards. Resting from conjuring fiction out of whole cloth, because that will come when it wants to, it seems, or when the right prompt comes along. Resting from all the labels I've had on my business cards since the late 90's: writer, tarot consultant, palmist, belly dance teacher. All the stuff that takes me further into the world, and into contact with people.
Instead, today has been a day where I've cleaned the three toilets, and the bathroom, powder room, and en suite until their belly buttons shone. I've finished reading 'Gizelle's Bucket List', which is about a girl and an English bull mastiff, and PizzaBoy and I took a walk through Bellbird Dell. Did necessary texts to Bear, and VampireDancer. Wrote up next week's To Do sheet. Gave my animals pats.
And that's enough. Tonight, I'll continue reading, this time Patti Miller's new memoir writing book. Not to do any of the exercises, but to simply read through it, as I used to do with writing books. Inhale another writer's mind and methods and prompts, and then let it sit in the stew of my head.
I'm not good at resting. Haven't been since....well, forever. Since I felt I had to prove I was 'of use' in the world to LoafAbout, to the ExBastard, to my mother, OldestBrother, and people who were likely not judging me at all(the ones listed sure were).
Now, living in the House of Sloth, I am the crazy-active one, and every oracle, person, and the animals are all saying 'rest'.
Well, sitting on my bed reading with PB, the Pupika, Angel, and Penny is as close as I get. I'll take it, until my mind looses its hold on busy-ness a fraction more, and I can sink further into this thing called 'rest'.
Instead, today has been a day where I've cleaned the three toilets, and the bathroom, powder room, and en suite until their belly buttons shone. I've finished reading 'Gizelle's Bucket List', which is about a girl and an English bull mastiff, and PizzaBoy and I took a walk through Bellbird Dell. Did necessary texts to Bear, and VampireDancer. Wrote up next week's To Do sheet. Gave my animals pats.
And that's enough. Tonight, I'll continue reading, this time Patti Miller's new memoir writing book. Not to do any of the exercises, but to simply read through it, as I used to do with writing books. Inhale another writer's mind and methods and prompts, and then let it sit in the stew of my head.
I'm not good at resting. Haven't been since....well, forever. Since I felt I had to prove I was 'of use' in the world to LoafAbout, to the ExBastard, to my mother, OldestBrother, and people who were likely not judging me at all(the ones listed sure were).
Now, living in the House of Sloth, I am the crazy-active one, and every oracle, person, and the animals are all saying 'rest'.
Well, sitting on my bed reading with PB, the Pupika, Angel, and Penny is as close as I get. I'll take it, until my mind looses its hold on busy-ness a fraction more, and I can sink further into this thing called 'rest'.
