I know you aren’t supposed to hang out staring at the water on the stove. You aren’t doing anything to help it. The water knows how to boil on its own, and you are just a foolish human spectator.
I watch it anyway. It is boring, but beautiful, and lets me zone out.
Sadly, zoning out is a daily thing for me now. Not by choice. I’m feeling some guilt about this, as we are busy at work. I’m not on top of my game at all. Brainstorms? I usually love them. Now I am a spectator with little to add. Speaking in coherent sentences to freelance illustrators? Not really. I’m trying, I really am. It seems that my mind is occupied with growing a human. I wince during meetings while Baby B tries to exit out of my left side. Glad to know he is well in there, but oooowww. He needs a swaddling. If anyone on my team is reading this, a thousand apologies. I am probably not going to be the sharpest art director for the next 39 days.
Are there advantages of living with this distracted and mushy mind?
derrrrr…what…wait…what was I talking about? Where am I? Huh?
Hey, want to see a picture of a pie that I totally messed up?
Yeah, it is clearly a runny pie. But the good news is, we dumped it in a container and used it for ice cream topping for a couple of days. So how can I count that as a total failure? Some may even call it a win.
And something else that I (ahem, nature) accomplished recently is growing these little wonders from seed. I don’t think I have grown anything from seed since elementary school.
This mushy mind is good for something after all. I can let my eyes rest on things that an overactive mind would pass up. I can relax into a comfortable stare in .2 seconds on just about anything. Uncooked pasta becomes interesting. Bread is beauty. My squirrel collection is the Last Supper. My life is not yet a blur. It feels more like someone sat on the remote and paused me. So I will stare at the still frame awhile longer, and enjoy the quiet peace.