I’m sitting at my computer sending an email to a friend. The new Walela CD is playing; it is snowing lightly outside my window. My mind doesn’t seem to be interested in any of these activities, so it has gone off on its own. It starts by amusing itself thinking of the people who believe I am wasting myself by playing with words and pictures instead of earning money – David is there, in my mind, nodding and Mary is applauding too. My mind jumps to the heron and hawks currently living on the Alewife brooks and ponds. It wishes I were there.
Now, Walela is singing about ‘smoke in the wind’ and ‘the long, hard struggle every day’. It seems appropriate and my mind tunes into the words for a few seconds, then jumps to yesterday and the people who came for readings. There is the tired face of the woman who said, “I just come to check in once every few months. I need to stay on the right track.” Then there’s the quiet yet gruff voice of the man who wanted his world to improve, but didn’t see any reason to make any changes in his thinking or attitude. My mind reminds me of his words “all I have to do is pray and it’s their responsibility to make it happen”. At the time, I had wanted to ask if he had heard the expression ‘God helps those who help them self’. I bit my tongue instead, but my mind says it for me. Suddenly my mind presents me with the smell of flowers – very sudden, very strong, very sweet. Then the scent is gone. What is my mind trying to tell me now?
Walela is singing ‘What kind of world is this?’ My eye is caught by a flock of starlings landing on the lawn, then on the young squirrels chasing one another up the tree trunk. The e-mail has been sent; perhaps it should have been proofread. I notice the pots of dead plants on my back steps and think they need to be emptied. It’s cold outside, the wind is blowing hard and I return to the sofa and try to remember what I had been thinking about.