Timing

As I was playing in the backyard with Marty McFly, my amazing canine companion, it really started to sink into my bones again just how fast I’ve been hurtling through this dream.

Timing is a great gift if we don't resist it. Its a source of suffering if we artempt to control it. (Ha! As if…)

Timing is not at all what I thought it was. Timing is freedom when paired with innate knowing and intuition.

And it’s like a curse word when we're fighting it.

The puzzle of timing is solved so easily if I am present, limber, and generous. There is a time and place and space for everything we choose. But are we really there with the thing in front of us?

Do I let myself fully experience the act of drawing when I draw? Of painting when I paint or writing when I write? Of peeing when I pee? Of throwing a ball for the hundredth time today for Marty?

Am I right there soaking up all the flavor, texture, and surprises of the cooked apple as it enters my mouth and hits my tongue? Or am I racing off to other points in time either imagined or remembered?

I don't know about you, but I often receive or open to a huge batch of ideas and projects at one time. I tend to get the mountain top view and then I have to go down the mountain to start on them. The mind often wants to know which one comes first or next, and then it is distracted instead of taking the next step and then the next , arriving right on time into the thing that is ready for me.

I know where to go. I always know the way. But I often trip up on attempts to be efficient instead of present.

If you're on the substack app, here's a copy of a note I wrote this morning. I write notes for myself there…And if others think it's a note for them, neat.

Now, I’m off to swim in the wild mountain streams of revisions for the travel-roadtrip-sketch-field note-poetry-riddled memoir of rebirth into the upper octaves of Wonder.

When the time is right, I have more mooses ready for painting.

BTW- the stewed apple was delicious..I only missed a bite or two.

Enjoy this precious eternal moment.

Love,

Andrea