Slowing Down


(Paris in December)

In case you didn’t know… it’s almost impossible to write when you rush it. Until I sat here thirty minutes ago to write this I didn’t recognise that I was rushing… but I am. So, I could sit here for another hour in this hurry up attitude or I could slow everything down. It’s hard to understand my resistance to slowing everything down.


(What’s for dinner?)

It’s Christmas I’m in a hurry, I can’t be slowing down, I have things to do, places to go, people to meet, appointments to keep, dinner to cook, I’m responsible, in charge, in control, in a panic (when will I ever get to the point?) Maybe I should be speeding up? I read once about a way to stop blushing…. as soon as the blushing starts you concentrate on making yourself blush more and it does work. It doesn’t work for writing though.

Right so, an hour has passed and I’m still not making a point, maybe tomorrow will be better, Mairead.