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Wednesday December 5th, 2018

I have noticed that with all creative processes there are sinks to clean and dishes to be put away. I am writing this morning and have scrubbed my sink and emptied the dishwasher as I do every time I sit to write. At first, I think I am wasting time. I should really have more than a page written, but I just keep catching a glimpse of the jumble on the counter and then, there’s the lack luster sheen of the sink calling to me. So, I wander over to see wassup.

While there, I notice it is raining pretty steadily; the straight down sort of rain that gets things done, plants watered, that sort of thing. A utility rain. Kind of like scrubbing the sink.

I also hit on some pretty important points I wanted to make in my book, developed them a few sentences in and tapped them into the computerator for safe keeping.

It’s still early and I am blissfully cocooned in the silence of the morning house. Writing and blowing dust off the keys. Writing and feng shue-ing my kitchen counters. Writing and chasing the cat.

But I am writing and, that is what it is about. Creating is about making time to do it and using the time to develop it, even if you have a scrubber in your hand instead of a paint brush. I have learned that creating is like an eternal limbo… always becoming. Right now, today, I have so many parts of my life that are changing, are in limbo, are creating themselves, that I may look like I am chasing squirrels from time to time; but I am simply trusting that the process and I are in our dance and that pretty soon I will look down and find more than a clean sink at hand.