Words

I'm sitting in bed with my back up against the headboard. The window is cracked, but not enough to feel the desirable breeze. I need some air. There's a long "to do" list waiting for me to tackle, but I'm enjoying the moment. The calmness. Calm is where it's at. My therapist says to lock it into adult - the calm part of us. No reason to catapult into over-emphasized emotions because someone else has lost their mind. Just lock it into adult. I can live in this pocket. A state of calm. There are images on my walls that I barely view. Art is supposed to transcend and cause reactions. I used to be an artist. But the art of writing seems to be lost. Text, I.M., Tweet. Who picks up a pen anymore? It's 10am. My Bible study is at 3pm. I'll get some air then, as we sit on the back porch under the Maryland sun, yet sheltered by a big, green umbrella. Time is of the essence. Let's start the clock.