Wednesday 25th August 2010.

 

(More Cobbles)

Yesterday I woke very early, as I usually do for the first night in a new place. We’ll be staying here for five nights so I’ll get plenty of full night’s sleep. As usual also, when I can’t sleep I write, sometimes it invigorates me, sometimes it makes me sleepy, either way it seems the natural thing to do.

I think it’s also a release. During my waking hours I talk to myself a lot, about what I see and what I want to do next and what I “must tell” someone. So it’s quite full in my head. Then I write and it all flows onto the page and it meets other thoughts that were stuck behind shopping lists and “have to” lists and “should do” lists. When they meet they have baby thoughts and more to say. Then they get a bit organised and I go “oh, ok I get it, isn’t that interesting”. So I guess I write to tidy my head.

 

(The rabbit – A Street performer)

I used to believe that it was very important to be thinking all the time. To make sure I knew what was going on, what might be going on, what might go on next, what might happen if ….. It was exhausting. So I stopped doing that… (well, some of the time!) Maybe it would be more accurate to say I didn’t stop thinking, I just stopped paying attention to the thoughts. I stopped believing they were important, that they had to be listened to, so I began to ignore them! But there are some useful thoughts going around in my head and when I write they pop out.

 

(French socket)

Of course I think everyone should write but if I was told I “should” write I’d never be able to pick up a pen. I only write when it’s the most natural thing in the world to be doing. Then my back relaxes, my head feels warm and fuzzy and my stomach becomes as soft as a squishy pillow! My breathing stills and it all flows. It becomes easy. So I think everyone would want to get the opportunity to feel like this.

Here in the Alsace region of France on the third floor looking out on the cute little town of Munster, writing is the most natural thing in the world for me to be doing.

 

(French grating)

When I return to the east coast region of Ireland to the ground floor kitchen, looking out on some empty flower pots (unless Ciara has been watering them – “…every day Ciara, every day!) I may need to give myself a little nudge to remind myself that I love to write.

From sunny Munster to wherever you are can I give you a little nudge to do that thing that you love to do. Then when I get home you can give me a little nudge. Wouldn’t that be great? We’d all be relaxed and fuzzy and squishy! Note to self: You do know it’s so much easier to put out the bins and clean up the dog poo and wash the dishes when you’re relaxed and fuzzy and squishy, don’t you?

(Cobble Stones peeping through the tarmac in Reims – for Sheldon)