The One Where I Write

for five minutes.  Uninterrupted and without editing.  And then, I join in with so many others over at Lisa-Jo Baker’s place to share and read and say, “Me too!”. Join us?  Click the button below to do just that.




Without fear of perfection, I am allowing myself to dig into what’s percolating in this brain of mine today.  I consciously choose to shoosh those little demons of despair and tell them Who’s Boss.  (And it’s not me!)

I live in a fast paced world that is on the constant prowl for the next snippet of Interesting to consume.  It seems like too much, too much, too much.  Maybe if I allowed myself the peace that comes with being still, I could discern between which of those snippets to really dig into.

The one about ditching the devil dogs in favor of more exercise. (The yoga pants have been talking to me again!)

The little tidbit about Perfectionism and how it taints even the good things that are emerging from my soul-deep places? (Those demons of despair – they can be so loud!)

How about the friend that longs to connect and leaves phone messages and texts and encouragements but doesn’t have a life in the same time and space as mine; and so, doesn’t ever seem to make it to the top of my priorities.

And the guilt.

All The Guilt. It sets in and I realize that what I really long to write about is weeding through the mess to the still.

And that’s how I end up drinking a cup of salted caramel coffee and enjoying a luscious gooey chocolate croissant.  It’s in the moment, right here, that I find the stillness. Other than the chewing and sipping sounds my mouth makes, I hear nothing. And I end up writing about just that.


And everything.

Right here.


9 thoughts on “The One Where I Write

  1. And can I add to all the other lovely thoughts above?… Still is kind of like a homing beacon. We long for it, dig for it, but it’s there under it all and at the beginning of it all… It’s just hard to remember that when the alarm goes off and I hit the ground running. Pausing for some Yoga, or the coffee (when it’s uninterrupted), or prayer… It’s like the “still” hits me in the face and washes over me. Then…then come the words ; )

  2. Pingback: Five Minutes…In the Coffee Shop | Finding Myself

  3. Nothing…and everything…

    Confession: When I can’t seem to get my thoughts together, I just start writing my stream of consciousness until I dig down to the roots. and you, girl, do this well. This laying it all down at His feet so He can fill you with rest. often found in a salted caramel coffee (or for me, nutella hot chocolate):)

    {HUGS} Love your heart, friend.

  4. Hey. I was sooo happy to see all your sweet comments on my blog. We have been in renovation mode for the last 10 weeks and living in a 600 foot apt with four of us, a dog and two cats (who do mercifully go in and out) has cut my blogging time in half. Reading this post, your words again wash over me. You are so very talented. Such depth. I hope to check in more often. ESPECIALLY, when I get a space for more quiet time. I wish that for you too.

  5. First of all- so glad you ended with that cup of coffee, or I would have been way distracted… looks… so…goooood. So enjoyed your writing. It does take a deliberate effort to get to that still. And I’m so glad you showed those demons Who’s boss:) Visiting from FMF, and very glad about it!

  6. I love this Missy! …and I so get it! (and my Yoga Pants are feeling a bit lonely this week as well! Gotta get back in track!) Great post!

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