i wanted to push ahead, find out what’s next, make something happen. it felt urgent. but then, not right. i paused. i paused for longer than i was comfortable pausing, for longer than i am comfortable admitting. i cleaned. i wrote. i organized. i painted badly. i threw things away. i read. i called my painter friend, who was cleaning out her closet, which she laughed about and said was how she starts a painting. my photographer friend told me about getting ready for a shoot, and all the time he spends researching and looking at images and getting ready. i cleaned some more. i felt overwhelmed with projects and my composer friend told me to make a list: all the things i need to do, and then cross them all off, except two. my poet friend reminded me how good it feels to go deep and how how easy it is to neglect that, and my writer friend reminded me about accountability and the good that comes when you weave projects together with other people.

i felt better. 

and then i overslept, and missed the trash truck, and cleaned some more, but now it feels right and clear and my house is momentarily clean(ish). i've begun. may we all find grace and patience and good friends to remind us how it’s done, over and over again. 

Oh, the coming-out-of-nowhere moment when,   nothing happens no what-have-I-to-do-today-list maybe  half a moment the rush of traffic stops. The whir of I should be, I should be, I should be slows to silence, the white cotton curtains hanging still.

Marie Howe.