The Garden of the World

When I have a period of time when I ignore my writing I get grouchy, itchy and soon become unable to sleep. Tom calls me the "Queen of Sleep". That's because usually, in fact almost always, I sleep well.

Last night I tossed and turned. The night before I did the same. As I was talking to a fine artist friend yesterday, I confessed to her that I hadn't been writing. I could see that she was disappointed, perhaps even a bit shocked. "You need to write every day. You know that." Of course I do. No excuses. No matter how busy I am. Write daily.

So here I sit, writing this blog to you. I don't have to be working on a new book or finishing one (which I need to do), or writing a short story; I just need to sit and write. Why? It's who I am. It makes my soul feel better. It makes me a better partner, a better friend, a better mother and grandmother.

Yesterday I met with a harpist who will accompany me when I read a poem for ArtPoem performances. While rehearsing I read a Rumi quote: "The garden of the world has no limits, except in your mind." What a fascinating idea that it is our mind that limits us, not our intuitive soul.

Einstein held a similar philosopgy: "The new idea is in the imagination, not the mind."

I applaud them both on their wisdom.


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