Early Morning Writing

by candlelight

Well, I did it. Followed the fizz, the new moon and the calendar. I’m at the dining table- the ‘new-to-us’ dining table, and I’ve written with my birthday pen, in my Sylvia Plath notebook from Katie and in my family journal. I had to pause while I tried to log back in to my Sub-stack but now I’m here. I’m here. You’re here too!

Lots of serendipity led me here; effort on my part was negligible, I was pulled and it felt nice to be honest. I think I am going to write until my butterfly plant opens, which shouldn’t take too long.

It is magic. I don’t quite know why I let it leave my daily life- from checking in on my fellow writers on Instagram to just writing in my notebooks. Actually one of the things that stopped was the noticing. I stopped taking photos, allowed myself to be in a rush all the time.

It was a slug trail that started me on this path. I’m grateful to that slug. It had slithered across the dead head of a rose in my friend’s front garden and it struck me as very beautiful.

EDIT- a week passed and I came back- it’s actually now 5pm on a Sunday

I wondered if the tiny fizz I felt was actually noticing and creativity awakening from it’s summer sleep.

Photo by Олександр К on Unsplash

Perhaps it was. Or it might have been that change in the sun and moon rising: those few weeks where it feels as though my energy level matches the availability of light.

Photo by Jeff Pratley on Unsplash

Either way. I knew, from prior experience, that I would need to plan some form of accountability. As I type, it is now over a week since I hatched this plan, but I am at least typing with - erm- nobody else on instagram live. The problem is that I struggle to plan ahead. I struggle to organise myself. I could chat about oestrogen, my health, my age,, but that is a different substack, Not this one.

For now, if you are reading, maybe you could like this post, follow me on instagram, or say hello any way you can. I don’t know why, but I know that it will spur me on and that it’s good for me. Call me attention seeking or narcissistic (no, please don’t) , but there are a lot of us aren’t there?

I used to subscribe to Mothers Who Write with Rebecca Schiller but the write-alongs always seemed to be around 10 in the morning when I am ALWAYS at work.

So, I’m sorry that this is dull and self indulgent but when I press send, I will smile, I will have written for 30 minutes (not just this- I wrote a paragraph of equally shot rambles first).

Even as I decide to move, to prepare the potatoes, my mind is ticking over some things I might write about in the future.

Ta ta,

Rachael xx