I meant to write this letter yesterday, but I ran out of you. Our relationship is so complicated. You are a human design constraint, but hard to escape when my body craves the cycles of the moon and the seasons.
Not only are there boundaries of seconds, minutes and hours to lead me like a horse through my day but then there are rules about what you are allowed to do and when.
In the mornings, you are supposed to be on time to wherever you are scheduled to report and there are morning beverages on the approved list. There are things you are not supposed to eat or drink in the evenings either. I don’t tend to follow these rules, but they are there.
There is no changing of the to do list after a certain time in the day. You can skip lunch and scroll through Instagram but don’t leave the building early.
Yesterday, there wasn’t enough of you. I had talks by Cheryl Strayed, Ada Limon, Sabrina Ward Harrison, KK, Tony Robbins, and the Quench collective that felt like there were on all at once. I needed to be able to listen with both ears separately and reflect and write simultaneously.
I wanted to write my daily prompt, this letter, the senses writing program activity but had other obligations that put money in my bank account. I made notes in my journal all day, but it wasn’t the same. The time I wanted was a creative bubble that was only interrupted by coffee refills and walks.
You have played tricks on me all week. The work day went fast and then the evenings went slow but you know that you make me weary and the writing comes slow in the night. My energy seems tied to you and the numbers that represent.
Yesterday was a great day in spite of these issues. My morning boys were fun and formed a writing group suddenly giving feedback and chatting during writing time. Talking cats will bring that out.
Dinner was amazing too.
I still love you.