There has been this contentment lately in the stillness. I know, for me, this is temporary as soon I will crave (require) more interaction and find myself leaving home. But for now it is nights in sitting here in front of my laptop, in the dark, with the music playing, and the fire on. Not totally in the dark because of the strings of white christmas lights strung up in various places across the room. And maybe it’s these lights that are drawing me to stay near. There’s a sense of home and a sense of comfort that I’ve been depriving myself. I need to let myself do this more. To just be still more. To get back to that place I used to find myself in regularly where the words and the ideas just flowed. Where I wouldn’t pause to think or be torn away by a distraction. Distractions, distractions, distractions.
For the time being, I will enjoy this and I will take pride in my living space and in myself as I struggle with the thoughts and feelings these cold months seem to bring. I will fight the desire to go back and erase this or edit it and just let it be. My fingers are aching for the backspace but I will only let them move forward as the furnace kicks on and the fireplace flickers and the record spins silently. There’s no harm in that. No harm in anything.
And so I let it be.
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