Yes, just a little. I’m one of those crazy people who once they commit to something, nothing will stop them.
This is hard. My brain is rebelling at the thought of it — just like my students.
I have nothing to say — just like my students.
You have so much to say, I tell my students and so I tell myself. HA! I think.
I write, but not this kind of writing. THIS KIND OF WRITING SCARY. It is the kind that uncovers. Not completely, that would be too scary. But just a bit more.
Part of my attraction to commitments and challenges is my love of rituals. Rituals rule my life. They are like dessert, something to look forward to. I’m looking to make Slice of Life writing a ritual. Something that I will savor and perhaps hate at times. Unfortunately the love of ritual has a dark side to it that can be painful. So here’s to a new ritual and a community of slicers that provide a place for this kind of pursuit.
One of my loved, most important rituals is a hot drink, quiet space, and words. Words that I write or read. Everything is quiet. No one to interrupt me but my cat stealing up behind me, wrapping himself around me, nestling on my lap, reaching up for my inattentive hand. The hot drink sits beside me. The quiet stretches before me, and I refuse to look at the clock. That would break the spell of the ritual.
But soon it’s late. I should be doing. Life is calling. I’ll pay big time later for this. Think unfinished laundry, empty refrigerator, lost sleep. I’ll wish I hadn’t read one more chapter, re wrote one more line, read one more paper. Yet I’ll do it again.
Computer’s about to die, only 8% left. My only time management tool, no charger. 7%….Count down till I must turn off. Power warning light went on. Time is closing in. Quick save the post, till it goes …zippp….
To Read To Write To Be 