From the Heart

I seem to be unable to find the time to finish a blog post these days. I just went back and 'finished what I started' several days ago. I (finally) completed and posted a few incomplete thoughts. Normally I would walk away and abandon them but I felt committed in following through on the thoughts that I had written down. Today, I felt just a little bit differently about those abandoned posts.

Mom seems to have appointed me as the family wordsmith when it comes to 'writing just a little something' to go along with the single rose that she likes to leave in memory when 'seeing off a loved one' at a funeral. I abandoned my blog-post-in-progress to write that 'little something' a few days ago.

I should have expected Mom to ask this of me (in reality, I offered) and had something prepared. But I didn't think of it until I got the call asking if I could pick up some flowers. Whoops. I had not scheduled that particular task into my day.

I never quite know what is going to fall off of my fingertips when I sit down in front of an empty canvas computer screen. What I ended up with, was not what I set out to write. But when I just follow the direction of my fingertips, I find that they are often what most-needs-to-be-written.

I think that my fingers are attached to my heart when I let them fly uninhibited. When I think too much, their attachment is to my head. Not the same end result. I prefer the results that come from the heart.

I love when small inconsequential thoughts become something 'real'. A few words that I heard on the radio directed my thoughts where they needed to be when I wrote those words to my aunt's family. I took the round about way to find my way to the end, but when I reread the final result yesterday (I wrote this on the fly and left the proofreading and final 'okay' to my family members while I raced around the house and got ready to leave), I was pleased with what my fingers had to say.

Thankfully, I did write this quickly. If Mom had given me advance notice (or if I would have thought of it sooner), I would have thought too much. It would have come from my head instead of my heart. And I like what my heart has to say much more than my head.

This same thought process is what has led me to my most favorite memories. That which I have done without over thinking. That quick email or phone call or note that I have written have produced far better outcomes than those I have toiled and struggled over. Impromptu invitations or 'great ideas' which have been issued in a moment of 'just doing it', verses thinking and talking myself out of something before I can utter the words.

The Years of Changing Careers were the most over thought years of my recent life. They were also the hardest to endure. I am finally back in the place where I am following my whims and living the good life. A life that is attached to my heart.

It is a very good place to be.