Ink

I process slowly
(made that way,
have tried,
can’t change it)
but I draw in ink
because there is no time
for erasing.

There is time for laboring,
but no time for belaboring.

If my personality ran the show–
mercy, I’d be there forever,
tweaking, examining, redoing.
Nobody has time for that.
The next thing, good, bad, or indifferent,
is coming down the pipeline
and I have to do this thing
so I can have room for that thing,
and it’s (thankfully)
not about me but about the work.

The work.
What will be here
when I have gone on to my next great adventure
and other people are the primary movers and shakers.
What I leave behind,
how I spent my time —
the people I invested in and loved well,
the work I created and shared with the world.

God the Great Creator
definitely had fun with some of nature
(have you checked out the platypus lately?
Have you fallen in love with the axolotl yet?),
and we are made in the divine image,
made to create.
It’s not always easy
(what is easy?  Not much.)
but it’s good.  So good.
Very, very good.

I process slowly,
but I draw in ink
to guardrail myself
from the avoidance I would certainly otherwise engage in.
It might not be great,
but it got made,
and now there is room for the next thing,
and you never know when Creativity will move
nor where the flow will take you.

 


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