When you sit still, alone, in some peace and quiet, what does your mind do?
I just sat on the hood of the Jeep and stared up into the sky. Few clouds blocked the bright stars. Lightning foreshadowed a storm to come. The trees flickered like Christmas trees with a growing number of lightning bugs. In a couple of weeks there will be thousands more and the trees will be vibrant with light. Staring straight up shows me a tree meeting the sky. The fireflies are not in the trees or on the trees as one might suppose instead they fly a foot or so from the edge of the tree respecting its space. Clouds begin to roll in eeriely as if Speilberg were directing the evening. As the last star was blotted the sky, the first rain drop came ushering me to the house.
I cannot be calm and enjoy the moment. I must compose! I review encounters and dialogs from my day creating alternate paths and endings. I makeup situations which may or may not lay in my future to see how I would handle the scenerios. I have conversations with myself. I write blog, journal entries, and poetry in my head. My mind cannot rest.
I think of when I was a child and could sit in a tree and think of nothing. Wait. That's not what really happened. I reviewed encounters with bullies and dumb things that I said creating alternate paths and endings. I fantasized of the days to come and imagined how I would handle each one. I conversed with myself. I daydreamed, composed letters never to be drafted nor sent, and poetry in my head. My mind would not rest.
