Or not very. Because it’s something I struggle with tbh. I find it so difficult to switch off from twitter, blogs, t’internet, thoughts of writing, emails to answer, posts to write, posts to read…
and then, the other night, I found myself sitting, with a sleeping baby on my knee, the only person left awake in the house.
And, it seemed, the only person left awake on twitter. Everything was still, everything was quiet. I could hear the baby breathing, feel her warmth on my arms, and I could savour the peace without any interruptions.
All that was going through my head were a couple of lines of a poem, I think one I wrote, though I can’t be sure. It’s a long time since I’ve written poetry.
“In the quiet hours of morning
long before the sun is dawning”
and that’s as far as it went. There’s something about a dream sprite and ideas and it ends with
“I alone awake
and softly magic make”
But I can’t catch it. There isn’t enough presence outside of the mother and the twitterer and the blogger and the tiredness to capture those words again, so I guess I just have to go on practising being present with the children instead.
Post written hurriedly for the writing workshop prompt 1 although I’ve been trying to find the time for it all week. Sigh.
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