Sunday, May 16, 2004


I am "In Praise of Slow". The title of a book talked about on NPR the other day. I was comfortable being slow today. Too often I am distracted, rushed, my attention splintered.

I am learning, paying attention to my clear thoughts.

It has been particularly hectic and busy lately. It has been both pleasurable and maddening. I am trying to decipher what is pleasurable and fulfilling from the blur. I need to choose how to spend my time and energy rather than falling into an activity.

I've been feeling like I lack faith. Well, that's not right, I lack a vehicle, a ritual to connect me with the powers larger than myself. I have isolated myself. I have not prayed for ages becasue I have lost access to the words.
As I struggle to carve pockets of time to write I realized that was the vacuum. Writing is my relgion and I had discarded it. I am unable to subscribe to an organized religion, an authoritarian system of belief. Writing is my connection to the universe. It is the umbilical cord tethering me to everything. I haven't been tapping it. And my equilibrium has tangibly suffered.

I get overwhlemed by the multiple voices clamoring for attention. Mostly they are versions of my voice telling me all thats wrong and what I could/should be doing instead of what I'm doing. A self flagellating merry go round. I am certain that giving my writing an open page will open my heart.

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