Day 51_Book of Hours FULL


Today I dragged myself out of bed after only four hours of sleep.  Sleeping on the basement pull-out couch with our bedroom under construction does not make for a good sleep.  I desperately wanted to curl up under the covers instead of waking up. With our two eldest daughters away, Ever-Patient and I both can’t do the sunrise together. I felt that I needed it more than he this morning. I can’t remember a morning where it had been this hard to get up at 5:00am.

As I begin the second half of my 100 Day Project, my will power is being tested.  With all the hoopla with the house and all the “doing,” I feel like I am on the cusp of missing a day.  The last few days have had me finish my entries at 11:30pm at night instead of 8:00am first thing in the morning.  This has started a vicious cycle of difficult mornings.

Today I especially felt the weight of the next 50 days of creating and writing.  It feels like Day 1 again.  I can feel the inner critic get subversive with its efforts to derail my creative output and motivation.  It is taking our its tried and true plans of self-sabotage.  I am reminded of my tendencies. When things get interesting and I become vulnerable, I bail. When I begin to really invest myself in something, I find excuses to quit.  When I start feeling good about something, I doubt. When I am scared, I destroy.

For the last 5 days, I have wanted to quit. And today, I really really wanted to give up.

At 5:00am this morning, I woke up and my first thought was to quit.  My second thought was before I quit, I need to sit and see a sunrise.  I’m not sure if it would change my mind, but I had to sit in solitude.

This is what I saw this morning:

Sunrise_July 21

Technically, I didn’t see the sun rise.  The sky was layered with clouds of all shades, shapes, and sizes. The only part of the sun I could see was this fiery sliver of light.  This flash illuminated the texture of the sky.  The deep blue of the water reflected flecks of light back to me.

The longer I stayed there, even with the knowledge that I wouldn’t see the sun rise that morning, I noticed how textured the sky and water was without the clarity and the brilliance of a rising sun.  There was no blinding sparkle.  The details were subtle.  The layers only became apparent after awhile.  The sky grew darker and I knew the rain was coming but I stayed even though I risked getting caught in the storm.

And this is the only way I can authentically right the here and now.  I need to pay attention to what this experience is teaching me.  At the very least, I can see what each challenge is reflecting back at me.  I am more aware and more accepting of these stops and starts of creative flow.

I need to have the courage to keep pushing knowing that these days will come.  The days where inspiration and motivation are absent.  The days where “more important” things should be done.  The days where I would rather vacuum drywall dust than be blogging here.

The days where I want to kill the thing I have come to love: creating entries in my Book of Hours and writing here every day.

Tomorrow I will pull my Book of Hours out before the day gets away with me, before the to do lists take precedence, before I am needed as mama and wife.  I will pull my Book of Hours out, place it before me with its deserved solemnity, and read from it.  I will read my entries.  I will read my scribbles and find inspiration in the most unexpected place: me.


100 scribbles…hurriedly writing the here and now.









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