Changes

I need to revise my chosen 6 changes for the year again. I realize it is essential for me to begin planning for further employment before the current work runs out near the end of the year. I am dropping the plan to "Read daily" because it can be deferred. Others can't. So here is the revised schedule:

1. Jan/Feb: Focus daily on creative writing
2. Mar/Apr: Establish and maintain a budget
3. May/Jun: Exercise daily
4. July/Aug: Learn to weave
5. Sep/Oct: Research and make plans for further employment
6. Nov/Dec: Plan and prepare healthy meals

That point for September terrifies me more than anything yet, but this process has taught me I am capable. Within two months, with concentration and determination, it is possible to make a significant attack on an obstacle, as I've done with financial issues.

In other news, I could not use the light box during Easter weekend, and back home this week I find I don't need it to get myself going in the morning. I've spent considerable time in the sun lately. So it seems April 1 might be the date to aim for in future. My mood could be better, but that is not surprising considering how much change is going on.

Free fall

I had a strange and powerful experience this evening. I rendezvoused with Sarah at the Red Brick Café, sat down to write, and fell off a cliff. It was the cliff I have been looking for. I let go of trying to write carefully, embraced incoherence, and allowed words, images and ideas to flow around and through me. At first it was stream-of-consciousness, but certain elements began to take precedence. The process became at once free and focused, directed and open, intense and relaxed, euphoric and terrifying. It felt like lucid dreaming. It felt like being stoned without the heaviness. It was falling in love. It was an altered state. It was mysticism, a naked encounter with the Imaginary Divine. I was suspended between sky and shadow.

After an hour I had to get up and come home. I was exhausted and invigorated. A fifteen-minute walk, and my mind was still rushing. I was intensely myself, emotional, in touch, unfettered. I wanted to remain in that space, but it was impossible. I phoned Danny and told him. I started to come down to Earth.

I'm afraid to read what I wrote in case it is simply inane and grandiose.

I've gone to that place before, but it never felt so highly evolved. I was absolutely sober and yet higher than I have ever been. I am almost inspired to swear off all drugs and alcohol to begin purifying my mind so I can return. I will have some time to write over the weekend, and want to see whether I can repeat the process, maybe even apply it to a particular character who has occupied my imagination recently. This is why I've established a daily writing practice: to be sitting by the open window when the wind begins to blow.

But I can't control the weather; I can only return to my seat by the favourable window.