In the Quiet of Morning

I realized this morning that I am a little off-kilter. Well, maybe a lot. The realization has been sitting there, staring me in the face. Guess I've been too 'busy' to let it in.

I finally tore myself away from the computer this morning and sat on the steps in the sun. It's still chilly here in North Georgia, 31 degrees when I went out. I put on my Koolaburras, grabbed a throw to wrap around my legs and donned my uberheavy Brian Head sweatshirt. I took my breakfast with me, a handful of raw walnuts, a plum and the last inch of green tea in my cup.

This is what has been missing in my life. Sitting. Being quiet. First thing. To start my day. This is what feeds me.

Lately, I seem to get out of bed, make my tea, then sit down at the computer. I first check Intellicast for the weather. Then off to Facebook, reading messages and comments,perusing friend updates. Since my friends are on both coasts, and cover three time zones, this takes awhile. I read a few articles, watch a video or two, pick up news, giggles and inspiration along the way. I comment, when so moved.

Eventually, I make my way to email, which is pretty sparse these days. I haven't seen patients in almost three months, so nothing from them. And, oh, how I miss those emails from my sweetheart. Guess those things fall by the wayside when you live together.

A week ago I added Twitter. And now, post-Twitter, there have been days I've been sucked in to the computer from early morning until mid-afternoon.

No wonder I'm off kilter! My morning ritual has gone bye-bye. There has been no sitting in silence savoring my tea, no listening to my muse. No journaling. No introspection. No inner thought food.

Yes, I've been learning Twitter, which is intimidating and mysterious. I'm now aware that it is a great tool for getting my writing seen; by magazines, news services, agents, other writers, and publishers, just to name a few. I get to follow William Shatner, who signs his tweets 'Bill'. I've made many contacts, including Deep South Magazine and Hello North Georgia, and a few of my blogposts were tweeted by WNEG.

Yesterday, after facebook and twitter and emails, I spent the afternoon painting my new office, slathering great gobs of dark, olive green paint over yuckey comet green walls. Alone for four hours, in that quiet old building, I had plenty of time to think. But there was too much noise in my head, all those twitters, and messages and that weird dream that needed analyzing. Turns out that dream just pointed me back to this same thing:

After 19 years of quiet morning time, I need it as much as I need food. It feeds my spirit. This is the time when I replenish. Am inspired. Commune with nature. Talk to God. This is where I find my center and anchor in. This is the place from whence miracles spring. My morning quiet time.

In the noisy clamoring of cyberspace, I'd forgotten. I used to tell folks that I get up by 7, but I don't do people until 10. I've been breaking my own rule. Just because they're in the computer and not standing in front of me, they're still people.

Oh. Yeah.

BTW, I miss you...