Monday, 19 March 2012


     Meandering, just meandering. Like a leaf, dappled in sunlight, on a gently flowing woodland stream, I've been going with the flow, occasionally diverting into intriguing byways and circulating in pools of calm.  No specific goal or destination; no plan or urgency, just Simon and Garfunkel's 59th Street Bridge Song playing in my head.
Slow down, you move too fast.
You got to make the morning last.
Just kicking down the cobble stones.
Looking for fun and feelin' groovy.

Ba da, Ba da, Ba da, Ba da...Feelin' Groovy.

Hello lamp-post,
What cha knowin'?
I've come to watch your flowers growin'.
Ain't cha got no rhymes for me?
Doot-in' doo-doo,
Feelin' groovy.

I've got no deeds to do,
No promises to keep.
I'm dappled and drowsy and ready to sleep.
Let the morning time drop all its petals on me.
Life, I love you,
All is groovy.
     It's been lovely, especially these past days when May has thrown a soothing temperate blanket over a usually cruel March, but even today I'm growing restless.  Some seeds of discontent are beginning to sprout and I sense their urgency pressing upon me, goading me to get going, get DOING, something important, valuable, something solid. Oh - and the possibilities are endless! Long lists of 'coulds', 'should's' and 'must's' beg for strike outs and check marks. Just look at this list:
  • clear out closets: bedroom, den, hall x 2
  • clean out basement
  • redecorate living room: new flooring, painting, furniture, lighting
  • yard work: clean out gardens; lawn care
  • get stuff together for New York trip
  • get stuff together for cruise
  • bathroom reno plans
  • attic clear out (comes after basement)
  • digitize slide photos (there are 20 years worth of these)
  • finish family cook book for kids
     It's all quite manageable over time, but really only amounts to little more than a bunch of boxes (okay maybe a dumpster!) full of chores that I can put at the end of the driveway. Important? Valuable? Solid? In it's own way I suppose so, but not really what my sprouts of discontentment are all about.
     A great clear out makes way for ... what?  Well if I knew the answer to that, I'd be off and running instead of meandering.  Sounds like it would be a good time for a retreat, a time apart, and it just so happens that back in the ice of January I booked just such a thing for March 30 to April 3; 5 days of writing, exploring, writing, listening, writing, learning, writing. Good timing, eh?
    For now, I'll continue on my way, kicking down the cobble stones...
                                    Ba da, Ba da, Ba da, Ba da...

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