I notice that the deadline is the day I see it online. Can I celebrate that fact? Perhaps that’s stretching the celebration thing? Why celebrate that I have to rush through this piece, not have time to check it over, make those tweaks that constrict it’s natural rhythm, and absolutely no time to put it away for those all important rest days. To then pull it out to read it over, tear it up or wipe it out and start again. Your confidence hits rock bottom as you question why you even try to get any words out. Call yourself a writer?
Instead I am writing this as a marvellous stream of delicious consciousness. I’m not worrying about stressing over words, I dive in, cool down and let my mind choose all those important words.
I should say I now have approximately ten minutes of freedom left before my beautiful one-year old grandchild will wake up. Now there’s a real, solid reason to get this down, and move on to pick her up, smell her gorgeousness and celebrate that little miracle.