Rambling on an Island

  

Once upon a time I loved to write. 

Everyone said I was very good at it.
Friends, teachers, professors.

I took notebooks with me everywhere and wrote

just for fun.  I was even fascinated by the very

physical act of writing, though my penmanship was,

 and still is, awful.  But oh, I still love a good pen. 

Sharpened pencils are the best.  And paper. 

And journals--they make my fingers twitch.

I have some pretty wicked editing skillz that help

with my kids' homework and husband's presentations.

But I think the last time I wrote something--

I mean, really wrote something--

was over 11 years ago.  Wow.

What happened to that writer?

Life happens, you know?

No, I don't write anymore but I'm still

very drawn to it. 

In another life, I'm an author and I have a cabin

where I go to work.  There, I'm so inspired that

words just flow like the breeze through the

open windows.  The breeze carries the deep 

scent of each tree and flower outside;

my words--my stories--carry deep, 

impressionable lessons and meanings of life.

They'll touch people's souls, change

their minds and win their hearts.

I've been pondering all evening why it is exactly

that our lives are so interrupted.  Why we just

can't, or won't, find the time to chase our 

passions and silly little notions.

Why do we keep our lists in buckets,

 and not out on our mirrors?

 

What would you do if you had a day--

one day a week or even just one day a month

that was set aside for what you want to do.  

Just as if you are at work.

Friends and relatives can't call you to ask favors

or just to talk because they all know

you are working.  If an event comes up then,

nope--sorry, you can't make it. You're booked.

You are committed.

Well, aren't you committed to....being you? 

 

I've been wondering, "What if I chose one day

a week that is mine (ours)?"  I know we should

not be selfish and that we should be self-less.

But lately I think there's just less and less

of that self. 

 

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What would happen

if I told extended family and friends

"Oh, sorry--that day is off-limits."  No parties,

games or dinners.  No phone calls.  No favors.

  That's my Island Day.  "I'm unavailable."

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I'm probably sounding a little rude, and maybe

anti-social but c'mon.  Admit it--you're intrigued. 

One day where others cannot "mess" with you.

And husband & kids are not "others," by the way. 

They're right there on the island with you.  

They can't be reached from the outside either.

You're laughing now.  I know--it's impossible. 

Comical even.

But doesn't it sound kind of....just sort of....

great?

What would you do with your Island Day?

I would find that writer.

The poet.

The artist and the chef.

And maybe the designer, too.

I haven't seen them in forever.