Being in the routine of writing reminds me to focus on those small moments. Unrecorded, they pass by barely noticed and certainly unarticulated. But with a little focus, they become so colorful and detailed: the inflection in a voice, quivering leaves on a tree, the oiliness of some piece of fabric. When I get into the practice of noticing it, the world becomes so sensual.
I wonder if my lack of writing and observing has to do with my happiness. Why is it that when things are good I have no inclination to pick up a pen?
This weekend (Tuesday and Wednesday are my weekend) was a perfect way to kick-start my new Project Balance. In an attempt to welcome more balance into my life, I went to the beach on both of my days off. One I'd never been to, and one was an old favorite:
Besides that I:
got back on the workout wagon
replied to all the emails in my in-box, some of which had been awaiting a response for weeks
straightened the apartment, did laundry
hung some prints on the wall
Walmart run (unfortunately no Target on Maui)
dusted off the camera and took some photos
cooked dinner with D.
tried a new restaurant with D. (where I had New Zealand mussels AND New Zealand sauvignon blanc.)
watched a movie
started a book, a recommendation from a friend
other unpublic stuff