Loose Leaf Notes

Woke up, fell out of bed, Dragged a comb across my head, Found my way downstairs and drank a cup, And looking up I noticed I was late… ~ The Beatles
The following is one typical day in my current life, told in 25 easy steps.
1. Sometimes, when I wake up, I find a pen and immediately start writing. A mug full of tea is also involved.
2. I have to discipline myself to meditate before I go upstairs to the computer. I practice “passage meditation,” as taught by Eknath Eswaran.
3. The following is an excerpt from the passage by Rumi that I’m currently mediating on: Everything you see has its roots in the unseen world. The forms may change, but the essence remains the same. Every wondrous sight will vanish. Every sweet word will fade. But do not be disheartened, the source they come from is eternal…
4. While meditating, I remembered this dream: I was at a cottage, vacationing with a group of various old friends. Jack, a friend and former boss, was there, looking at a big book (of memories or information) that I was intrigued by. After a while, he went out to grocery shop. I shouted, “Don’t forget eggs!” Then, I got the book to look at, and when he returned, I was still looking at it and was disappointed that I would have to give it back.
5. I thought about naming this post “Yesterday,” which led to my wondering how long I could get away with naming all my blog posts after Beatle songs.
6. Some interesting email subjects headers today: Blog wars, Blog some more, The latest development, Birth of a hummingbird, Make them accountable, and Colleen, are you on the computer right now?
7. Faraway places where Loose Leaf readers have recently come from, according to my stat counter: Singapore, Alaska, and Norway.
8. I washed my hair and put in a load of laundry.
9. After breakfast, I cleaned the mess in the kitchen from the night before.
10. I worked on a poem that I’m having trouble ending. It’s as if my own words have painted me into a corner. I’ve been trying to free myself for over a month now.
11. I packed up 10 copies of “The Jim and Dan Stories” to send to my mother, who sells them out of her house in Hull, Massachusetts. I wrote her and my dad a short letter on bright pink paper. My handwriting gets worse with every passing year.
11. I cleaned off my son’s old toy box in the computer room/office that used to be his bedroom, going through the stacks of papers that had piled up on it, and trying not to spend too much time re-reading everything.
12. I talked to my girlfriend, Katherine, on the phone: “No, I can’t go see Arlo Guthrie with you on that weekend. Joe and I are going to Colorado for his brother’s wedding,” I told her.
13. I am reading 4 books at the same time. I picked up one, “Where I’m From” by George Ella Lyon, that my friend Fred got (a signed copy) at the Hindman Writer’s Retreat and lent to me. Lyons says about poetry: “It wasn’t invented to be hard to understand or to belong to a few people only. It was invented to carry crucial things through space and time, to help the mind hold and share the heart’s treasure. Poetry is for you. It’s in you…” I had to discipline myself to read without marking up Fred’s book with the parts I liked best. I decided not to take it to the pool.
14. It’s too late to go to the pool now.
15. I drove to the Post Office to mail the books, and then to the grocery store. I only needed a basket instead of a shopping cart because our garden is full of vegetables; there is still some venison in our freezer; my sons are on there own; and I no longer do full-time foster care, which means that I only cook for my husband, Joe, and me now.
16. At the post office, I chat with a friend while waiting in line. He and his wife are taking their son to college this week, he tells me.
17. Buying stamps, I ask the postmaster, “Do you have “love stamps?” Oh good, that’s a nice message to send out (all you need is love), don’t you think?”
18. I usually can’t make it through a day without some kind of nap. I have learned to honor this.
19. The phone rang, but I didn’t answer it.
20. I picked corn and yet more tomatoes. I also squished a couple of corn borers with my bare hands.
21. I picked basil but forgot to make the pesto.
22. Near sunset, Joe and I walked to the ridge on Hope Road. The bad news is that developers recently clear-cut 100 or so acres there. The good news is that it opened up the view and we can watch the sunset. But I’d much rather have the woods than the open field, bare of all trees, if anyone’s asking.
23. The evening passage mediation was by Lao Tzu… “Break into the peace within, hold your attention in stillness, and in the world outside, you will ably master the 1000 things…”
24. After my bath, I watched some TV, alternating between the network’s “Medium” and a show about retirement on PBS, while lifting 3 pound weights.
25. I went to bed late (after 12:30), after futzing around on the computer. I didn’t go to sleep right away. It got up (more than once) to write the draft to this entry.
Post note: It’s interesting that my day started and ended with writing. I also hope friends who read this notice that I do other things besides blogging.