Little time for writing at the present, sadly, as January and February always mark the busiest of seasons in my work year, a juggling act of deadlines and demands. It all pays off as said deadlines are met (somehow) and said demands diminish with each accomplished task.
Free time is limited and devoted solely to running and sleeping, restorative activities that keep frazzled from evolving into fried. If I lose the thread of what I'm working on to chase words and build sentences of my own, I just prolong the work process that keeps me from being able to get fully lost in my own creative pursuits.
So, instead, like Dory in Finding Nemo (as I was reminded by a friend just a run or two ago), I "just keep swimming, just keep swimming", knowing that I'll eventually get where I'm going. (Listen, if you're saying to yourself right now something along the lines of "Finding Nemo, seriously", you either aren't a parent or, well anyway, trust me you're missing out on one heckuva running mantra by not having watched at least that scene.)
While swimming headphones and music are a nice distraction, however, though even these can get me off track, at least for a moment or two of reflection. Not that I'm complaining.
"These are secrets a world sung to me truer than the truth."
Can the album Rainbows from Atoms really be 20 years old? Of course it can. Anyway, for the uninitiated, Lungfish's Creation Story hardly qualifies as a song and is certainly not representative of the band's full body of work, but it is as fine a collection of words as you could hope to hear in just 3 and a half minutes and, though cryptic, the sentiments of those words are just as timely as they were 2 decades (gasp) ago.
Every single waking day something makes me think of a line or two or ten from this lovely poem. And, yes, the closing comment is the text that surrounds Lily's newborn footprint on my upper right arm just below her drawing of she and her sister at play that a friend transferred with care to make it apparent that it originated, and could only have originated, from an earnest child's crayon and imagination.
"It was children that crafted a parent and resolved in children we shall live."
And with Spring looming, as predicted or otherwise, there's soon more adventuring to be done and time to be spent NOT in the office. Together.
To that end and while Lily and Piper sleep blissfully, I must hit "publish" and return to the swimming at hand...with a little daydreaming mixed in for good measure.