Day 13, 6/22/17, Thursday: Trying to motivate myself, this early afternoon. Ran, but only 5 miles.. I know, you’re going to say “Only five miles…” so not-so-slyly sarcastically, but I wanted something north of 10. Got hotter quicker than I measured. Have books for semester, finally. Want to be on campus by 16:00, so I should get in the shower in about 30 minutes, if not a little less. Not having any more iced coffee… no. Much I’m tempted, I’m not doing it.
Tomorrow, pay day. Still waiting to see if I go see clients in their office. Tentatively… tomorrow’s about photography. Wake early and workout here in home, then after babies are gone, head out… Russian River area. Want to go through pictures on camera later in adjunct office.
Quiet here in house. Not even my usual Bobby Hutcherson or Miles Davis, or John Coltrane stations playing. Just myself, this laptop, some ice-water, and a book of Kerouac and Ginsberg letters, and a collection of Emerson writings. Would be more than up for a glass of that Andrew Murray Syrah I opened last night, if I didn’t have class that is. So I sip this water, which is actually nice ‘cause it’s oddly warm in here. Why isn’t the AC igniting? I’m too busy with my thoughts and this sitting, not sure it’s going anywhere, to get up and turn it on. Why am I so flat, so without propulsion? “…the new prospect is power.” Emerson writes. The prospect, not so new, of me traveling and writing and taking pictures and teaching from my experiences, or at the very least sharing them… something there. For readers and myself. I have to throw myself further into this zen here in home, this quiet and this water, the books and this chair.
AC on. Where’s my camera? There it is… drawer, right, right there with cord. I’ll play with pics in a bit. What’s for class’ lesson? How about this… when we’re in a “funk” without our writing or ourselves. How do we work our way out of it? Just with that, WORK. Be busy. Don’t stop writing or doing whatever it is you have to do— work for your job, a run, some project around your house. Anything. I’m working my way through it with this keyboard and Mr. Emerson. My inner conversation finds its way to page and I find myself in rewarding circles, where Newness awaits. If I’m to be free by the end of this project, both financially and vocationally/avocationally, then I need these moments more and more. Get up earlier, plan more, take more pictures and more walks in the vineyards— be where you’re the most YOU.
The wine from last night… Syrah… so strong and confident, but still displaying its inner and most honest of artful urges. Interesting in all sip spectrums, frankly. It painted its own picture… so animated and colorful and energetic, spontaneous. Should have a glass— no, don’t worry I won’t. Actually, need to dive into these pictures. My vineyards. Always calling me, this needy writer… pictures from years ago, even before babies. Then the recents, the most near to this Now. Time reminding me that I don’t have time to be in any lulls, “trying” to self-motivate. You just have to leap, and do so fearlessly and in the same ravenous manner a child opens a gift, as all these moments and days are exponential gifts.
And just like that, a loudly exciting idea slams into me with meteor thesis. Here I go…. Still running…