Thursday, April 28, 2016
Little Bits of Paper: Thursday's Reflection
Once again my desk top is covered with notes to myself, including one that says, "Little pieces of paper--idea for blog today."
Many of these notes are written during my morning meditation time, when in spite of quieting my mind or is it because I quiet my mind, ideas flow. I quickly jot down the kernel of the thought in a little notebook, tear out the page and return to my reading or writing in my journal or praying or sitting in silence.
At my desk working on a blog post or a chapter for my book I grab a sticky note and scribble a question or image or thought. I am just as apt, however, to make a note in the small notebook on the table next to my side of our bed or on the small slips of card stock clipped together on a metal ring I keep in the car. I am not in the car for long periods very much these days, but when I was driving frequently between St Paul and Madison or even before when I drove this direction from Ohio, the passenger seat was littered with these little bits of paper by the end of the driving time. I noted how many hawks or flocks of turkeys I saw or the title of a book mentioned on public radio or a "to do" reminder for when I returned home. Or just a random nudge to explore in my journal or other writing.
Here are two samples from my current pile both related to the chapter I am currently drafting:
Sweetwater Farm: Write about occasional pieces of
pottery Bruce found digging in the garden--links to past.
Harvest Table--not just object -- something to look at,
fill space. Place where things happened--used, experienced,
relationships grew, secrets shared.
Many notes to myself are more mundane -- simple reminders not to forget x, y, z or to follow through on something I have been asked to do. Or to check if we need cereal or milk before going to the grocery store.
I suppose all these pieces of paper could be minor irritants, suggesting my mind, not what it used to be, needs reminders, but I think of them in a different way.
My little bits of paper are communications with my inner voice. That voice signals an openness to my own creativity, to my connection to the past as I live in the present and process for the future, and to my openness to the day and to the world in which I live and breathe. When I write a note to myself, I am in dialogue with my inner spirit. "What are you noticing, Nancy? Feeling? Wondering about? How is it you are to live today?
These little bits of paper are gifts of gratitude and grace.
These little bits of paper are moments of meditation.
All the little bits of paper are saved under a paperweight on my desk until I decide to read them, sort, file, discard, use. And now it is that time.
How do you know when your inner voice is talking to you? I would love to know.