Routine

I have allowed myself to get into the routine of not having a routine. This happens. Life happens. Starting Monday, even in the midst of March Madness, the following WILL happen:

1. Exercise. I have written down a list of classes at the local YMCA that I will attend next week. I have been exercising, but not with others and I miss and need the social time with other girlfriends. I will attend one class every day next week.

2. Writing. This week I will work on finalizing a submission for a first book award that I am pursuing. I will research markets for the book proposal on worship resources and query. I will read at least one book of poetry from a new author this week, and get started on next month’s bookclub title.

3. I will somehow manage to make it through the impending snowstorm that is headed our way this weekend. It’s March, people! I am certain that my foul mood and laziness has something to do with the need for sunshine, shorts, running outside, and all things Spring.

Maybe if I write this all down in simple, declarative sentences I will intimidate myself into accomplishment instead of watching basketball 24/7. Don’t bet on me, friends. 🙂

 

 

Rhythm

Balance, order, rhythm and harmony are much more difficult to achieve than intensity.

There is a subtle difference between tapping into the rhythms of life, biologically and spiritually, and setting an external schedule that one must adhere to. The life of the writer must involve both. For example, if I wait for my internal sense of timing to tell me to do the laundry it will never get done. My inner rhythm NEVER tells me that!  Conversely, if I only follow an externally-imposed to-do list, I will soon feel depleted and poetry in my life will never happen.

I don’t make daily to-do lists anymore. I keep a running  list of tasks that need to get completed and I try to tackle one or two of those each day. I do a number of “jobs” on a daily  basis that don’t require a written reminder. I know I will grocery shop every day. I know I will retrieve my son from school and make myself available to hear about his day. I know I will eat every day and cook most days. I will get some form of exercise. I do household chores every day.

The rest of my day must tap into that inner flow of being. This is where writing happens. It may feel lazy at first, but the writer must ask herself, do I want to accomplish perfectly-made beds today or a piece of original writing? Household order is essential to me, but it must serve as a means to the end, not as an end in itself.

Write on!

North Country Farms

“Happiness is not a matter of intensity but of balance, order, rhythm and harmony.“
Thomas Merton

In my life, no two days are exactly alike. Usually I can arise when I like and take on the day in the manner that suits me. That, however, is surely not the same as saying there is no rhythm to my fine life. I thrive on rhythm. I surely know children do and I think most adults crave it in some fashion also.
 
The farm has an ebb and flow that needs tending to — every week we plant  trays of seeds, every two weeks we plant baby starts out in the field, every Tuesday we harvest for our community, every Wednesday we hoe and weed all the gardens.
 
Each morning I make the rounds of the farm, feeding the cats, ducks, chickens and rabbits. It is a slow and…

View original post 127 more words