I have no shortage of time today. I find myself rally resistant to sitting down and writing. I allows myself only one hour of my addiction to Property Brothers. And I spent a couple of hours watching Super Soul Sunday on Oprah’s Network. I hadn’t realized that Maya Angelou had died. I usually don’t listen to people that are popular enough to earn a living writing. I get it in my mind that they are simply repeating over and over what has already been said and what has worked. I suppose that’s snobbery on my part.
Maya Angelou was fabulous. I really enjoyed her commitment to truth telling and her love of God. She radiated through the television and onto my couch. I felt touched by a being who truly loves.
Now, my resistance. Is it fear of not having anything to say? Is it fear of telling the truth? Is it fear of being boring? One of my professors said, “write anything, just don’t be boring.” I did take that to heart.
The only thing I can think of that I find really boring is brushing and flossing my teeth. Twice a day is almost beyond me. I do do it dutifully, though. The coffee stains are permanent and my teeth are crooked, but I’ve only had one cavity in my 50 years, and no other procedures.
The house is quiet. Guy is still out of town with the little dogs. It has been five weeks. My mind is treating me well; dust stops at my ears. I am moving like a swan in sneakers with no webbed feet.