“Outside, there was that predawn kind of clarity, where the momentum of living has not quite captured the day. The air was not filled with conversation or thought bubbles or laughter or sidelong glances. Everyone was sleeping, all of their ideas and hopes and hidden agendas entangled in the dream world, leaving this world clear and crisp and cold as a bottle of milk in the fridge. ”
~ Reif Larsen
It’s raining here at the farm this morning. The kind of rain that drizzles down and stops, drizzles down and stops. There is fog and low cloud, it’s cool, and more than anything I’d like to be tucked up in my bed right now.
The house is quiet except for the tap tap tap of my fingers flying across the keyboard. Except for the occasional burr and tick and hum of the kettle as it heats water for my tea. Everyone else is asleep, even the dogs. It’s that kind of a morning.
Meanwhile, I’m writing.
I remembered something important at 2am. The time Auntie told me about deep listening and how to do it with your whole body. I dreamed it first, which is how I came to remember. Suddenly I was back there in the Kimberley, out walking in the red dirt with my old Aboriginal aunties as they taught me the kinds of the things that have literally saved my life. Then I woke up with a start. Why had I forgotten to include this one incident when it was so important? I needed to get up and put it all down on the page while it was sharp and clear in my mind. So up I got and I huddled in front of the bright screen at my kitchen table, the main lights out so I wouldn’t wake anyone up.
On this early morning as dawn breaks I am still writing. Weaving this new thread into my almost finished memoir. Carefully excising less important words to put these more important ones into it.
And there is still the not-right ending that I am avoiding, hoping that some miraculous insight will come along that allows me to tidy it up in a satisfying and useful way.
I’ll stop now, and have a break.
Maybe a better ending will come to me as we buy groceries, or as I prepare the guest room for our friend who is coming to spend Easter and Bluesfest with us. Or as I make my Cadbury Creme Egg Salted Caramel Cheesecake (I know!). Or as I answer student emails and record videos for the crystal of the month for my membership group.
Or maybe I’ll just have to slog through it and hope it all comes together, word by painful word.
Anyway, enough now. I’m stepping away from the desk. I’m stretching. I’m yawning. It’s time for a shower.
Wishing you all a connected and inspired kind of day, or at least one with a good cup of tea or coffee and a little time just for you.
All my love, Nicole ❤ xx
5 thoughts on “This Quiet Morning”
Looking forward to your memoir❤️ love this post by the way
So looking forward to reading your memoir. Thrilled that you’re in such a beautiful environment that is so inspiring and kind to your process. Sending love and thinking of you xoxoox
Exciting that your memoir is almost done. It was your writing that first captured my attention, and I stay for that and the other wisdom you offer.
I’d like to swap places with you for a few days and experience creativity at its finest! Enjoy everything you have planned. Best wishes, Rita
Rita, it’s a kind of insanity, I promise, and it’s not always fun. But I hope the end result will be something worthwhile. I am trying my best to make it so. Much love to you xx