What to talk about tonight? The rain? The double-booking an hour and how shitty that feels? The not knowing what I want to write about. I’m breaking patterns, and feeling unsafe and uncomfortable is essential for growth.
I felt removed from writing tonight and a longing. I don’t know what it is about music, but isn’t it magical? Insert headphones and the random, never heard by me song “Was Magician” by This is the Kit. It’s a relaxing song with two female lead singers staggering their words just so.
Another song. It started with a piano, a couple of keys, and a couple of others flicking back and forth. Insert a violin. And now they are playing together. Long pulls on the violin, and although I can’t see the person playing it, I can imagine it. I love watching a person play the violin; it’s like being part of a mini-love affair.
I’m in the market for a rowing machine.
Evelyn came to the car when I pulled into the garage, and although she’s three months shy of age 3, I sometimes see a mini adult in her. Trying to slug my laptop carrier over her shoulder, but with the poundage too great, I fielded the weight as she carried just the strap.
I’m incredibly grateful for my life. All of it; the pain, longing and uncertainty, and aging. All of it. My hands rest on the keyboard as if taking a final bow—nothing more to say than that, I suppose.
I’m trying to break out of my usual editing routine. I want to present my writing closer to its raw, more vulnerable form, filled with thoughts, questions, and ponderings. Less polished, more something else. Something me?