First thing this morning, I got up and wanted to get right on it. I built a fire in the stove to take the chill off the frosty morning air and had my usual quiet coffee time, and then… I was paralyzed. Overwhelmed. Couldn’t find a good place to start. My wave of exuberant domesticity had overstimulated and swamped me. So, after flailing around fruitlessly all morning, stabbing at this, poking at that, and dabbling around here and there, I stopped. And that’s when I relaxed on the front porch bench with my salad and the book. I stared at the sky, slowed down my mind, and thought.
I’ve always tried to live and work at a steady, puttery pace (one accomplishes much this way), and I reminded myself once again to slow down. Make a list, yes, but start simply, focusing on one thing at a time. Don’t hurry. Enjoy what I’m doing. Do it thoroughly and well. Then move on to the next thing. No struggle. No pressure. No time limits. No stress. And leave plenty of room for people, writing letters, reading, interests, hobbies, fresh air and exercise, just sitting around, and other important things. From High Desert Home