Can feel the run, now.  Hours later.  Soreness in legs, exhaustion in general operating.  Planning on early run again, tomorrow.  Sipping no wine, tonight.  Only sparkling water wife bought at store for us, but mainly me.

Hoping to wake early tomorrow morning, and I mean early.  The god hour.  4am.  Have at least 2000 words in NaNo project.  Also start writing aims for the next 100-days project.  Clearly writing out all aims.  1, to have actual and documented steps toward my wine label.  Another, register for runs in Oregon and Colorado, both high elevation.  Have enough money for car, either have own offsite office or a membership at that ‘Lab’ place on Mendocino, significant income from independent instruction and speaking.  Going to start a massive and fanatically creative return to writing, literature, lecturing.  Won’t elaborate here, one I’m too tired and two don’t want to hex any potential.  And there is potential, a mammoth amount.

In class tomorrow, for the first time in well over a week.  Listening to Coltrane, at low volume, no TV, pushing me, telling me to be in more a jazz mood and mode in the class.  Just in the moment.  Not thinking, just creation.

For 1A tomorrow, going to speak from self, on destiny, on careers, on people in our lives.  What do we do with what we have, and once we know how often do we further consider what we’re doing.  How much do we leave to chance or destiny, and how much to we value and trust in self action?  Right now, I’m writing from making self do so, choosing to capture where I am and what I’m doing.  On couch, with Coltrane, seeing the day tomorrow, knowing a change and lovely, loving shift in my story is about to land.

All I, WE, have to do is write it.

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mikemadigan

Writer/Blogger - bottledaux.com

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