I forgot…


Poetry

Poetry (Photo credit: Kimli)

Such a simple excuse reason, and it happened so easily, so quickly, so sneakily, that it almost went undetected. Until I realized upon a slightly closer examination of my inner/outer attitude and my focus that I had completely LOST IT! I mean I stopped keeping track, I stopped counting and naming and writing down the things that I am thankful for. And guess what happened then, I FORGOT TO BE THANKFUL.

My life is often plagued with forgetfulness. What appears as a life changing idea one week becomes a vague recollection the next. I’m full of good intentions, full of them. And I am such a good starter and such a bad finisher. How about you?

So, after taking a week out for Centrum Port Townsend Writers Conference, and having limited my writing to poetry and to editing poetry and to learning about writing better poetry, my “one thousand gifts” list became a must-do -later-but-can’t-do-right-now kind of thing until I got home. Home again, I post once full of the fullness of my experience and gratitude for all of it and then… yesterday… I realized I’d stopped altogether. One week after being back home with my beloved ones and not one addition to the list of gifts. NOT ONE!

I’m telling you this because I want to be entirely up front with who I am and what I am capable of. And not capable of.

Anyway, I’m going to start again. Or should I say, re-start.

295. a memory that works often but not always

296. a new idea that is still a good idea

297. family around the dinner table

298. friends who drop off cookies to my kids when I am away

299. friends who drop of banana bread to my kids when I am away

300. a husband that supports my creative growth as a writer

301. brown dog swimming in the pool

302. decorating plans with my best girl

303. friends on the porch, wine in the glass

304. watching my girl treat my boy to a clean truck

305. pentunia party of colour

306. huddled under the porch in pouring rain

307. a novel based on facts I know nothing about until now

308. worship hands up voice open heart wide

309. reading a magazine in the shade

310. the grace to re-start

Dragging my feet, lifting up my eyes, sometimes in a fog,

Lesley-Anne

Port Townsend's downtown waterfront in the fog

Port Townsend’s downtown waterfront in the fog (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

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