So there I was. And I started to think about my next writing, thinking that it was coming up soon, but quickly realized that it was not, and that the reason why I thought it was is because I hadn't written one in a while. And then I thought fuck, I forgot my Monday morning writing.
I had missed writings before. Not very often, five times I believe in all this time. And when I did miss it, I always wrote as soon as I remembered. Like when I first starting writing this writing and it was a Sunday morning writing and then it became a Sunday night writing and then finally settled into Monday morning as those Sunday times were just not working out with life and my children were around a lot and there was weekend stuff to do. When I missed my writings back then I wrote right away and acknowledged the delay
And a few times I forgot the writing altogether, not because of anything like a weekend event or a conflict in time but just because I forgot. My most recent time doing this, before this time this past Monday, was six weeks ago.
And again, each time I forgot, I wrote right away to explain why I had missed the writing. Each piece explained the delay and re-committed to the process once again because the intention was still very clear to me, in that energetic way, that it was important to adhere to the structure I had created.
And so I wrote a Monday on a Wednesday, or a Monday on a Tuesday, or a Monday morning on a Monday night writing and all was good. I was back in my groove.
Until this past week. This time I did it differently. Because this time, it was different. I could feel it. It was not just about missing the writing and then going and doing it. There was a message in this one. And I needed to sit in it and listen to it.
And so I did.
In the still hot water of my shower meditation, I sat in the discomfort of it. And then over this past week, as the urge to write something pulled me to fill up the space that held my Monday musings, I sat in it still. It was hard. I had this burning, well not burning but very strong, desire to write something and put it out there because I was worried. About not doing what I had committed to doing. And about whether anyone would wonder where I was. And about whether I would lose you by missing a writing. Because even though I write for myself, I write for you, too. For this connection with you. And so I worried that I had disconnected. And so I felt badly, too.
I sat in the discomfort of all of this and I sat in this worry. And in my sitting I took the time to reflect on what was really happening. And question what I was to learn here. And figure out what the next best step is. And this is what I figured out.
I love my Monday morning writing.
And the plan is not working in the way that it was. This is not to say that I will not write my writing each Monday. It is a Monday morning writing after all, and I likely will write each Monday still. I've got a lot to say.
But if I don't write, this is ok, too.
Because what this is about is the awareness of what I am doing. It is about being present to the choice to write. The structure that I created, that commitment to have to write each week, it worked for as long as it worked. This structure, it created the rhythm for my writing and was the foundation I built my words on. And was right for me for quite a long time. But not now. Now what is right is that I write, but if I don't, well that is right, too.
This is the mindfulness of it that I am noticing and honoring. There is importance in this. This is a message from the universe that I need to pay attention to.