Living life all the way to it's edges {Just One Paragraph 7/30} / by Christina Rosalie

clouds_ChristinaROSALIEYesterday I didn't write. I meant to. I thought about it. But I never never managed to slip away from the rowdy menagerie that is my family on the weekend, and then I was out late out with with friends to celebrate the first quarterly Renegade Writers Collective reading event (so proud of those gals!) and take in a sneak preview of the Moth main stage event that will be coming to Burlington in the Fall, and then more drinks and general revelry under the warm night sky. So. here I am, making up for lost words so to speak. And here's what I've been thinking today: that this work of showing up is more about the practice than the end result. More about the act of writing, than about the paragraphs accumulated one after the next.
So here I am, still rubbing my eyes at 11 am, catching up for my lost post, and feeling the weight of lost sleep, as the boys begin to wrangle the material of our lives into boxes (if we're to move, we must pack, it seems.) It's quite a slow-start morning after a late night that was entirely counter to my whole "two hours before midnight" experiment, and though today I'm paying the price (and feeling rather old) I'll never stop wanting to live life all the way out to its edges. And just as I'm totally down with this whole sleep thing, and am definitely planning a radical sleep experiment, I'm also avid about inviting the unexpected. Serendipity flirts at the edge of random. Creativity emerges when things break from the norm.