Written last night:
Chloe and I are sitting on the couch/bed, watching and listening to the storm. Although Mother Nature roars outside, it is peaceful here as I sit and write the next few pages of Scarecrows and enjoy the silence of my house (the human silence, at least) after a long day at work. It's almost meditative, this not-quite-quiet--the soft scratch of pen on paper, the drip of the rain outside, the tick of the clock upstairs. In fact, it's not really quiet at all. But somehow, each and every sound melds together into the musical whole of an early spring evening.
Right now, at this moment, I wouldn't rather be anywhere else. I am that content.
I truly think this retreat from the computer is something I've been moving towards these past few years. And I'm not sure that 'retreat' is the right word; it's more of a reduction. In reducing my computer usage, I open my time up for other things I want to do. My writing certainly isn't suffering (so far.) I've written thirteen pages (and counting) in four days. Considering there were some days where I'd barely write a paragraph, this is a serious improvement.
It is curious, this stillness I feel. This calmness. I think I've decluttered more than I expected--not just stuff, but habits as well. And that is--most definitely--not a terrible thing at all.
Chloe and I are sitting on the couch/bed, watching and listening to the storm. Although Mother Nature roars outside, it is peaceful here as I sit and write the next few pages of Scarecrows and enjoy the silence of my house (the human silence, at least) after a long day at work. It's almost meditative, this not-quite-quiet--the soft scratch of pen on paper, the drip of the rain outside, the tick of the clock upstairs. In fact, it's not really quiet at all. But somehow, each and every sound melds together into the musical whole of an early spring evening.
Right now, at this moment, I wouldn't rather be anywhere else. I am that content.
I truly think this retreat from the computer is something I've been moving towards these past few years. And I'm not sure that 'retreat' is the right word; it's more of a reduction. In reducing my computer usage, I open my time up for other things I want to do. My writing certainly isn't suffering (so far.) I've written thirteen pages (and counting) in four days. Considering there were some days where I'd barely write a paragraph, this is a serious improvement.
It is curious, this stillness I feel. This calmness. I think I've decluttered more than I expected--not just stuff, but habits as well. And that is--most definitely--not a terrible thing at all.
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