I spend my mornings on the couch. It’s still dark, very dark, unless the moon is out full and then that blue tint across the desert attracts my attention. By attention, I mean irritation. I’m trying to sleep and that moon shines right in my window at times, makes me think someone has turned on a searchlight. I sit up in bed and stare out at the night.
“Who has disturbed my dark slumber?!”
Realizing it’s the moon, I grumble about curtains, and pull the blanket over my head.
But all those other mornings, when the moon is not harassing me, it’s dark. So dark that I can’t see beyond the limits of my porch. I close the curtains over the kitchen sink in the dark, avoiding a direct look out into the darkness. An ancient fear. What if I see something I shouldn’t?
A cup of coffee, my journal, my book. I snuggle into the couch, cover up with a blanket, and say hello to my husband. He’s been up for an hour already, one of those strange people that sleeps less than I do.
The dog eats her breakfast, runs outside quick, and then runs back in to take her place in the blanket beside me. The cat meanders across the coffee table, over my feet propped up in the recliner, and into the blanket opposite the dog. I’m surrounded.
For the next hour or so, I read, sip my coffee, pet the animals, and watch the sky lighten. It’s my favorite time of day. Magical.
What happens after that is a crapshoot. You never know. I have a list of morning tasks, but they are rarely in the same order. Journal, yoga, breakfast, meditation, write, read more? It depends on my mood and my plans for the day.
Today, I went right from reading to writing here. The sun warmed up the curtains and I wanted to share it with someone. Is that so wrong?
Yesterday, two different conversations with friends got me to thinking. Do I have “have ADD?” And is my use of social media (or this blog) healthy for me? I spent most of my afternoon thinking about it and then rushed to finish dinner (I forgot I had to add the potatoes and carrots to the crock pot), make the cheesecake my son requested for his birthday dinner tonight, fold the laundry from the dryer, and do the dishes. Where did my day go?
ADD? Probably. Do I consider it a problem? Only sometimes, like when I’m trying to make something from a recipe and there are people to talk to. Lately, I’ve been craving more focus time but not finding a way to practice. Meditation is helping. I find my mind wandering most of the day, thinking I could probably get more done if I could focus on one task at a time.
My biggest distraction is my phone. Friends and family text and call, and I’m always available to answer. I consider putting my phone on my desk and answering later, but that makes me sad. It seems to be my life work to answer people and talk with them. It makes me happy. A phone call can recharge my batteries and motivate me. I don’t want to miss that connection.
Is social media healthy for me? I’m not sure. If you know me, or read here often, you know I fight about this all the time. I love it and then I hate it. There’s a nasty breakup and then I come crawling back. I’m social. I don’t want to be alone. I want to share my world. It’s the same reason I write here. Some people don’t have that need, but I do and sometimes I start to feel guilty about it.
I’m struggling this week. Not sure if I should be writing at all, not to mention what to write. Sometimes it feels like I’m burdening the world with all this, adding to the noise. Rethinking…again.
And why do I read so much? What’s the point? What else could I be doing? There’s yardwork, quilts, housecleaning, and other projects I could be doing.
Am I missing some big turnoff along this highway? Am I focused in the wrong direction? Is this all there is?
One of those weeks, I suppose.
It happens often and sometimes I share it here, like back in July last year with my post Mental Minimalism: Taking a Break. Why share the malaise? Because someone out there may be feeling it too, and then at least we’re not alone.