The earth shook this morning at 5:30. I had only just awakened and was laying there trying to decide if I was going to get up and start writing or if I was going to try to go back to sleep for another 30 minutes or so. And then the room started shaking. It only lasted a couple of seconds but was more significant than the last quake we had a few months ago. It “rattled” the dog a bit; she woke up growling and whimpering as if she wanted to either attack or run away from whatever it was that was causing things to rumble. Nothing fell off of anything or was dislodged or broke. Just a good, solid shake. I gave up on trying for the extra sleep and sat up and started into my morning journaling. I’ve lived out here in California for nearly seven years and am grateful to have not experienced a significant quake, definitely not the forecast “big one.” I hope to be elsewhere when that one hits.
Other than a shaky start to the morning, it was for the most part a pretty good day. I am grateful for my continued march toward clarity in my life. I am spending more time with the questions, writing about what’s on my mind and sorting through what emerges. I’m paying much more attention to my language; lately I’ve caught myself saying that so much in my life is uncertain. I’ve said that a lot in recent months. In fact, I would say that I’ve fed myself a fairly steady diet of uncertainty. No wonder I don’t know what I want to do or what I’m “supposed” to be doing. I spend so much time in uncertainty I don’t have time (or quiet space) to figure it out. So guess what? I’ve stopped saying I’m uncertain, that I don’t know, or that I’m unclear. I say that I’m writing my way to clarity, which is an acknowledgment that clarity is needed, while not telling myself I’m unclear about everything. It’s a subtle but important distinction. I’m also actively working to strike “I don’t know” from my conversation and just might give up various forms of the word “not” for the remainder of Lent. (You know, “can’t, won’t, don’t, wouldn’t, couldn’t, shouldn’t, etc.”) They generally are not useful to productive conversation.
I’m so grateful for language–for the mental capacity to read and write and the physical ability to be able to see and hear words and phrases. These are not things I take lightly or for granted. Words and music have been such important parts of my life, allowing me to give voice to thoughts and feelings I could not have otherwise expressed. The desire and ability to write during the last several tumultuous months has been what has kept me on a relatively even keel, especially writing this daily gratitude blog. I am letting this writing practice grow ever larger in my life. I am inviting it into my day in larger measure. When people used to ask me what I wanted to be when I grew up my answer, after a cowboy, was a writer. I always wanted to be a writer, and as I look back at how my life has unfolded, I have always been one. I fully expect over the next several months for my writing to continue to find its way to a broader audience. Until then, I am happy and grateful to be sharing a few words each night with those of you who spend time with me each night (or morning for east coasters) in this blog. I look forward to seeing where this goes in the day and months ahead. Stay tuned!
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