It seems that we all have more to do than we want or need to be doing. The only solution for most is multitasking. The ability to multitask is considered to be a great asset by those who are concerned primarily with human productivity. The greatest proponents of multitasking may be today's students. They are the ones who can do their math homework in English class while taking notes and secretly text messaging their friends with the phone hidden in their pocket so that it won't be taken away. Is this really a good thing?
Maybe I am just bitter because I am lousy at multitasking. Yes, I can chew gum and walk at the same time. I can cook dinner and carry on a reasonable conversation. But generally speaking, I don't like to multitask. For me it is counterproductive. I may be doing two (or more things) but I feel like I am doing neither of them well.
I like to devote my full attention to whatever the task at hand may be. If I am reading, I don't want to be talking. If I am watching a movie, I don't want to be folding laundry. If I am writing, I don't want to be checking my email. Perhaps my personal aversion to multitasking comes from my training as a musician.
When practicing, whether it be technical studies like scales and arpeggios or a difficult concerto, the only means to success is absolute attention to the finest details of what you are doing. Anything less than this guarantees that you will miss the nuances of the music and thus present a mediocre product. I feel that I must be 100% present at any given time to a single task to be able to accomplish what I want, which I admit is perfection.
An inability, or an unwillingness, to multitask is quite frustrating to those who prefer no other way to work. I know that my refusal to look to the right or the left when I am focused on a single thing in front of me drives those around me crazy. Their propensity for overlooking details is equally frustrating to me. So, I guess we are even.
We all have a right to choose our preferred method for accomplishing our required tasks. However, the question still remains, is multitasking really more productive and thus more desirable than focusing whole-heartedly on one task at a time?
If you are curious about your abilities as a multitasker, here is test.
Dr. Meyer’s Multitasking Experiment
You’ll need a deck of cards and four quarters. Before you begin, pull all the 6s, 7s, 8s, and 9s from the deck and set the rest of the cards aside.
To start, place the seven of clubs to the left, the nine of hearts a half inch beside the seven to the right, then the six of spades, and finally the eight of hearts. Place each of the quarters about three inches below the row of cards in an even row. The quarters should be three inches from the edge of the table.
Part One. Numbers: Take the remaining 12 cards and shuffle them. Holding them face down, turn them over one by one, placing the sixes on the quarter below the six of spades, the sevens on the quarter below the seven of clubs, the eights below the eight and so on, saying the numbers as you place them.
How much time did it take?
Part Two. Suits: Shuffle the cards again. Holding them face down, turn them over one by one, this time sorting the cards by suit. You’ll put all the clubs below the club, all the hearts below the heart, etc., until you’ve gone through all twelve cards, saying the suits as you place them.
Again, how long did you need?
Part Three. Numbers and Suits Shuffle the cards one more time. Holding them face down, you will turn them over once again one by one. But this time, you will alternate between sorting by number and sorting by suit, starting with numbers. So, you will place the first card by its number, the second card by its suit, the third card by its number and so on until all twelve cards have been played. Be sure to announce the card as you place it.
If you’re like Dr. Kramer, you will spend a lot more time sorting by numbers and suits than you did using only one criterion.
I hated step three! I just was not born to multitask. I will continue to make my never ending lists and accomplish things one at a time. Rest assured that whatever I am doing at any given moment, I am giving it my undivided attention. I may not be as productive as you are, but in the long run, I may be more sane!
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
Friday, October 12, 2007
Life On The Creative Edge
For as long as I can remember, I have lived the creative life - from the four year old poet whose masterpieces have remained tucked away safely in my baby book, to the artist who at seven or eight took brush to canvas with the help of my grandfather (the real artist), to the performing musician who spent many hours practicing the clarinet and piano, to the composer who wrote the sounds that carried friends to the altar, to the creative soul whose life now is a mish-mash of writing, photography, music and knitting. Walking the path of creativity is challenging, fulfilling, frustrating, heartbreaking, exhilarating, magical, terrifying, amazing . . .
Every human being is born with a spark of the Creator that resides within. For some of us, this spark ignites a fire that is almost impossible to extinguish. For others, the creative coals may smoulder for a lifetime without ever bursting into flames. No mater how the creative spark manifests itself, we each have a responsibility to tend it. Just like we can't leave a burning campfire unsupervised, neither can we leave the fire of creativity to burn unattended..
My earliest recollection of my own creative spirit is from kindergarten when I decided to write poetry. The meager little rhyme that I wrote was enough to alert the teacher to the fact that perhaps there was something there that she should nurtured. During that school year, she collected all of my literary gems. On the last day of school, she gave me a typed anthology of my verse. That was enough of an incentive to keep me writing. (So, those of you who have read the poetry that I have posted on this blog and wondered why I thought it was a good idea can blame Mrs. Daily. It is all her fault.)
During that same year, I began taking piano lessons. I'm not sure if I exhibited musical abilities or if I was taking piano lessons because that guaranteed my mom at least thirty minutes of peace and quiet each day while I practiced. Whatever the reason, music was the fire that was kindled inside me. It consumed nearly every minute of my life for about twenty five years. Though I guess that technically by profession I am a musician, right now I enjoy several other creative outlets as well.
For me, photography is just plain fun, probably because I can partake without the burden of expectations placed on me by myself or others. Writing is challenging. Expression through the written word demands that I bare my true self since I prefer to write non-fiction. I am not creative enough for fiction. Knitting is both fun and challenging. I have reached a level of competence that allows me to pick up most patterns written by other people and make a fairly accurate go of it. The fun comes in choosing colors and making, usually minor, changes to make it my own. Creating designs and patterns of my own is more challenging.
I have never been very good at forced creativity. I really do have to wait for a visit from the muse. This is probably why I can't make a living as "an artist". Whether it be music, writing, photography, or knitting, something inside me has to be moved to create. This makes coming up with the designs that I am responsible for in Spirit of Knitting a scary proposition sometimes. As a composer, I am forever asking myself, "Does that melody or progression sound like something else?" And as a knitter, "Have I seen that somewhere else?"
We all grow by expanding our knowledge base. It is mandatory that musicians listen to the works of other musicians, that painters study the masterpieces of other artists, and that knitters study the work of other knitters. In each of these instances, we run the risk of experience and expression co-mingling. In other words, something we thought was our own idea actually belongs to someone else. I am not talking about blatant copying or plagiarism, but rather experiences that result in the same means of expression by different people.
BK, Alissa, and I plan the projects for each issue of Spirit of Knitting at least a year in advance. This gives us plenty of time to perfect our ideas and designs. Unfortunately, it also gives others a big window through which to beat us to the punch. Such was the case today. Like I said, studying the work of other artists in our field is absolutely essential to furthering our own creative spirits. So, I make an effort to at least look at, if not buy, any new knitting books that I can. The other night I had a date with the "1 click" button on amazon.com which resulted in the purchase of two new knitting books. At this point, only one has come, but that is enough. I was thumbing through the great designs in Mags Kandis' book Folk Style when all of the sudden I was stopped dead in my tracks. There on the page staring straight back at me was the exact design that I am working on for the January issue of Spirit of Knitting! That issue of our newsletter is all about knitting socks and other foot coverings. I thought (over a year ago!) that I would design a child's felted Wellie that would then be embellished with needle felting. Mags Kandis had the same idea, and hers made it to press first. So, I am heading back to the drawing board. That part is a little frustrating though I guess there is some consolation in knowing that at least someone thought it was a good idea. If only I had gotten there first . . .Such is the way in the creative life.
Every human being is born with a spark of the Creator that resides within. For some of us, this spark ignites a fire that is almost impossible to extinguish. For others, the creative coals may smoulder for a lifetime without ever bursting into flames. No mater how the creative spark manifests itself, we each have a responsibility to tend it. Just like we can't leave a burning campfire unsupervised, neither can we leave the fire of creativity to burn unattended..
My earliest recollection of my own creative spirit is from kindergarten when I decided to write poetry. The meager little rhyme that I wrote was enough to alert the teacher to the fact that perhaps there was something there that she should nurtured. During that school year, she collected all of my literary gems. On the last day of school, she gave me a typed anthology of my verse. That was enough of an incentive to keep me writing. (So, those of you who have read the poetry that I have posted on this blog and wondered why I thought it was a good idea can blame Mrs. Daily. It is all her fault.)
During that same year, I began taking piano lessons. I'm not sure if I exhibited musical abilities or if I was taking piano lessons because that guaranteed my mom at least thirty minutes of peace and quiet each day while I practiced. Whatever the reason, music was the fire that was kindled inside me. It consumed nearly every minute of my life for about twenty five years. Though I guess that technically by profession I am a musician, right now I enjoy several other creative outlets as well.
For me, photography is just plain fun, probably because I can partake without the burden of expectations placed on me by myself or others. Writing is challenging. Expression through the written word demands that I bare my true self since I prefer to write non-fiction. I am not creative enough for fiction. Knitting is both fun and challenging. I have reached a level of competence that allows me to pick up most patterns written by other people and make a fairly accurate go of it. The fun comes in choosing colors and making, usually minor, changes to make it my own. Creating designs and patterns of my own is more challenging.
I have never been very good at forced creativity. I really do have to wait for a visit from the muse. This is probably why I can't make a living as "an artist". Whether it be music, writing, photography, or knitting, something inside me has to be moved to create. This makes coming up with the designs that I am responsible for in Spirit of Knitting a scary proposition sometimes. As a composer, I am forever asking myself, "Does that melody or progression sound like something else?" And as a knitter, "Have I seen that somewhere else?"
We all grow by expanding our knowledge base. It is mandatory that musicians listen to the works of other musicians, that painters study the masterpieces of other artists, and that knitters study the work of other knitters. In each of these instances, we run the risk of experience and expression co-mingling. In other words, something we thought was our own idea actually belongs to someone else. I am not talking about blatant copying or plagiarism, but rather experiences that result in the same means of expression by different people.
BK, Alissa, and I plan the projects for each issue of Spirit of Knitting at least a year in advance. This gives us plenty of time to perfect our ideas and designs. Unfortunately, it also gives others a big window through which to beat us to the punch. Such was the case today. Like I said, studying the work of other artists in our field is absolutely essential to furthering our own creative spirits. So, I make an effort to at least look at, if not buy, any new knitting books that I can. The other night I had a date with the "1 click" button on amazon.com which resulted in the purchase of two new knitting books. At this point, only one has come, but that is enough. I was thumbing through the great designs in Mags Kandis' book Folk Style when all of the sudden I was stopped dead in my tracks. There on the page staring straight back at me was the exact design that I am working on for the January issue of Spirit of Knitting! That issue of our newsletter is all about knitting socks and other foot coverings. I thought (over a year ago!) that I would design a child's felted Wellie that would then be embellished with needle felting. Mags Kandis had the same idea, and hers made it to press first. So, I am heading back to the drawing board. That part is a little frustrating though I guess there is some consolation in knowing that at least someone thought it was a good idea. If only I had gotten there first . . .Such is the way in the creative life.
Monday, October 8, 2007
What's For Dinner, Mom?
Adidas is always on the prowl for something good to eat. Last night his efforts earned him four cinnamon rolls. The pickins' are not so good tonight.
Sunday, October 7, 2007
It's A Wonder Any Of Us Made It Beyond Infancy!
It has been fifteen years since I have had the occasion to shop for baby stuff. Boy has the world changed! There are whole stores, big ones, dedicated exclusively to the needs of babies. Okay, maybe, need is overstated. No kid needs all those things. And no young parents should let themselves be convinced that their kids needs all that paraphernalia, because they don't. How is it that babies haven't changed in forever yet the equipment to rear one of them changes on a daily basis?
I am all for pieces of equipment that lend themselves to keeping babies safe. Car seats are definitely good things. However, they are CAR seats. I am convinced that because car seats can be removed in no time at all, some babies never get out of them. I see mothers with their babies dangling at the end of their arms as they stroll through the grocery store or Target. The carriers are swinging back and forth. What these women seem not to notice is that the babies look like bobble heads. Because the mothers can't or don't see the infants, they don't know that their little heads are just bobbing back and forth - despite the fact that they have a color-coordinated roll thing in the seat. News flash: The roll thing keeps their heads from falling over to the side and making the baby look like an evil child's Gumby toy. It does nothing to keep a baby's head from bouncing back and forth to the beat of a mother's shopping feet. Whatever happened to carrying a baby in your arms? To holding them close and keeping them warm next to your own body rather than buying all those contraptions sporting different configurations of flannel and Velcro to swaddle your baby in so that it feels the security of being held? Just hold the precious little thing. In the big scheme, they don't want it for very long.
I was overwhelmed by my whole shopping experience. The "Baby Care" section may have been the worst offender. There were shelves that extended from floor to ceiling of soaps, lotions, shampoo, oil, powder, and other household cleaners. Whatever happened to the one liquid cleans all? You can buy more lotions and potions for infants than I ever thought possible. Then there are the nail clippers with the LED light on the end. Are babies like dogs? Do you have to sneak up on them in the dark so that they won't bite you when you trim their nails?
Speaking of biting, mouth and tooth care occupies another whole wall in the baby superstore. You can find toothbrushes with every TV character, Disney princess, and endangered species, toothpaste that claims to be endorsed by Big Bird (I don't think Big Bird even has teeth!), Barney, and Cinderella, ointments to sooth teething woes, rings, and sticks, and balls to freeze and then shove in the kid's mouth. Popsicles do the same thing and taste a whole lot better.
But the one baby care item whose possibilities just amaze me is the thermometer. Every mother needs a thermometer. If you call the pediatrician"s office to make an appointment they will always ask you if your child is running a fever. (Do they run a fever when they have bones sticking out of their arm, Doc?) So, there is no question that a thermometer is a must have. This is one of those pieces of equipment that has been improved vastly over time. Though you can still buy a rectal thermometer, who really wants one? Maybe some purist parent who has sadistic tendencies. Oral thermometers are definitely an improvement but it is hard to convince an infant whose natural tendency is to tongue thrust to keep that thing under his tongue for 60 seconds. Most babies prefer those soft squishy things in their mouths - even fake nipples are preferable to that poky thermometer. Enter, the armpit thermometer. Its accuracy has always seemed to be questionable. And like the dreaded rectal thermometer, the baby has to be half naked (you choose the half) to even use the thing.
The ear thermometer was new when my kids were babies. Those things are awesome. Ears are surely a preferred orifice over mouths, armpits, and rectums. I still use my ear thermometer. The only problem I have with it personally is that my temperature is different in each ear. Maybe fevers are like Shingles, they usually only happen on one side.
When you discover a good thing, and the ear thermometer is a good thing, you should just stop there. But no. Someone had to keep trying to invent the perfect thermometer. I don't know why they couldn't use their desire to create perfection by working on the perfect purse or knit bag or something. They had to mess with the thermometer.
Here comes the thermometer that masquerades as a pacifier. The baby sucks on it and the digital panel on the front displays his temperature. They kind of look like gasoline pumps with the prices changing every minute. Maybe these aren't such a bad idea. It solves the tongue thrusting problem and the biting (or gumming, depending on the baby's age) when you try to shove that thing in some opening that the kid was not expecting. Just as I was getting on board with the heat sensing pacifier, I came across the model that made me change my mind.
For all those people who are either unable or unwilling to read the digital display on the pacifier, here comes their heat sensing superhero - the pacifier that plays "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star" if the infant's temperature measures greater than 99.9 degrees. How many other baby toys are there that play this song? Then there are the children's cell phones (real ones, not toys) that ring to Mozart's musical gem. Now the buzz in the mall play yards is going to be "Is that my pacifier going off?" "No, it is just the busy box on my stroller." "Hey, that kid has my fever tone."
I've got it! I'm not much of a business person, but this just might be my ticket to big bucks - Downloadable pacifier tones! What do you think?
I could start with "It Sucks To Be Me" from Avenue Q. . .
I am all for pieces of equipment that lend themselves to keeping babies safe. Car seats are definitely good things. However, they are CAR seats. I am convinced that because car seats can be removed in no time at all, some babies never get out of them. I see mothers with their babies dangling at the end of their arms as they stroll through the grocery store or Target. The carriers are swinging back and forth. What these women seem not to notice is that the babies look like bobble heads. Because the mothers can't or don't see the infants, they don't know that their little heads are just bobbing back and forth - despite the fact that they have a color-coordinated roll thing in the seat. News flash: The roll thing keeps their heads from falling over to the side and making the baby look like an evil child's Gumby toy. It does nothing to keep a baby's head from bouncing back and forth to the beat of a mother's shopping feet. Whatever happened to carrying a baby in your arms? To holding them close and keeping them warm next to your own body rather than buying all those contraptions sporting different configurations of flannel and Velcro to swaddle your baby in so that it feels the security of being held? Just hold the precious little thing. In the big scheme, they don't want it for very long.
I was overwhelmed by my whole shopping experience. The "Baby Care" section may have been the worst offender. There were shelves that extended from floor to ceiling of soaps, lotions, shampoo, oil, powder, and other household cleaners. Whatever happened to the one liquid cleans all? You can buy more lotions and potions for infants than I ever thought possible. Then there are the nail clippers with the LED light on the end. Are babies like dogs? Do you have to sneak up on them in the dark so that they won't bite you when you trim their nails?
Speaking of biting, mouth and tooth care occupies another whole wall in the baby superstore. You can find toothbrushes with every TV character, Disney princess, and endangered species, toothpaste that claims to be endorsed by Big Bird (I don't think Big Bird even has teeth!), Barney, and Cinderella, ointments to sooth teething woes, rings, and sticks, and balls to freeze and then shove in the kid's mouth. Popsicles do the same thing and taste a whole lot better.
But the one baby care item whose possibilities just amaze me is the thermometer. Every mother needs a thermometer. If you call the pediatrician"s office to make an appointment they will always ask you if your child is running a fever. (Do they run a fever when they have bones sticking out of their arm, Doc?) So, there is no question that a thermometer is a must have. This is one of those pieces of equipment that has been improved vastly over time. Though you can still buy a rectal thermometer, who really wants one? Maybe some purist parent who has sadistic tendencies. Oral thermometers are definitely an improvement but it is hard to convince an infant whose natural tendency is to tongue thrust to keep that thing under his tongue for 60 seconds. Most babies prefer those soft squishy things in their mouths - even fake nipples are preferable to that poky thermometer. Enter, the armpit thermometer. Its accuracy has always seemed to be questionable. And like the dreaded rectal thermometer, the baby has to be half naked (you choose the half) to even use the thing.
The ear thermometer was new when my kids were babies. Those things are awesome. Ears are surely a preferred orifice over mouths, armpits, and rectums. I still use my ear thermometer. The only problem I have with it personally is that my temperature is different in each ear. Maybe fevers are like Shingles, they usually only happen on one side.
When you discover a good thing, and the ear thermometer is a good thing, you should just stop there. But no. Someone had to keep trying to invent the perfect thermometer. I don't know why they couldn't use their desire to create perfection by working on the perfect purse or knit bag or something. They had to mess with the thermometer.
Here comes the thermometer that masquerades as a pacifier. The baby sucks on it and the digital panel on the front displays his temperature. They kind of look like gasoline pumps with the prices changing every minute. Maybe these aren't such a bad idea. It solves the tongue thrusting problem and the biting (or gumming, depending on the baby's age) when you try to shove that thing in some opening that the kid was not expecting. Just as I was getting on board with the heat sensing pacifier, I came across the model that made me change my mind.
For all those people who are either unable or unwilling to read the digital display on the pacifier, here comes their heat sensing superhero - the pacifier that plays "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star" if the infant's temperature measures greater than 99.9 degrees. How many other baby toys are there that play this song? Then there are the children's cell phones (real ones, not toys) that ring to Mozart's musical gem. Now the buzz in the mall play yards is going to be "Is that my pacifier going off?" "No, it is just the busy box on my stroller." "Hey, that kid has my fever tone."
I've got it! I'm not much of a business person, but this just might be my ticket to big bucks - Downloadable pacifier tones! What do you think?
I could start with "It Sucks To Be Me" from Avenue Q. . .
Thursday, October 4, 2007
The Feast Of Saint Francis
Today is the feast day of St. Francis, the day that he met, with joy, Sister Bodily Death. As I sit reflecting on this day, I find myself thinking about Francis' last words. As he lay dying, Francis wrote the beautiful Canticle of The Sun. These words, in my mind, have remained unmatched over time in terms of how they convey the awe that Francis had for God's work. He died having given thanks and praise to God for all of God's amazing creation. I find myself wondering what he might have said to those of us left on earth, back then and today. The following poem is the result of my meditation on this question.
What Now, Francis?
Waste not
your tears on me;
on what was
or could have been,
maybe should have been.
Save your weeping
for those who live -
the hungry, the thirsty, the cold,
the sick, the beaten, the longing
For those who still have breath.
Turn all your tears to hope,
To fuel God’s work,
the death of injustice, pain, and suffering,
With joy.
Cry not for me;
I have eternal life in Christ.
Weep only,
as I do,
For God’s hurting people on earth.
KME 10/4/07
What Now, Francis?
Waste not
your tears on me;
on what was
or could have been,
maybe should have been.
Save your weeping
for those who live -
the hungry, the thirsty, the cold,
the sick, the beaten, the longing
For those who still have breath.
Turn all your tears to hope,
To fuel God’s work,
the death of injustice, pain, and suffering,
With joy.
Cry not for me;
I have eternal life in Christ.
Weep only,
as I do,
For God’s hurting people on earth.
KME 10/4/07
Tuesday, October 2, 2007
Hurry Up And . . .
On a trip south on I-35 this weekend we passed the church pictured below.
The big banner advertising a 30 minute worship service caught my attention because my own church is doing all they can to shorten the service supposedly to make more time for Christian Education. I am all for education, but in the case of my church, readings from the Scriptures are being omitted. Go figure . . .
Because various members of our clergy and I have exchanged emails about my unhappiness with our present service format, I could not help but send each of them this picture with a note that read, "Perhaps they will share their tips." I have not had a response from any of the priests. Perhaps they fail to see any humor in the above picture.
On a serious note, why are we in a such a hurry? I have always been under the impression that we have fast food, one hour glasses, drive-thru banking, etc. to simplify the mundane tasks of life thus freeing up time for the more important things - like church. I am having a hard time figuring out what we are supposed to be doing with all of our time. What is so important that we need a 30 minute worship service?
There are Sundays when sleep seems more important to me than going to church, but there a very few times that I actually give in and stay in bed. If I am going to get up and go then I want to attend a full service. It is hardly worth getting up and dressed for 30 minutes. I could just turn on one of those televangelists if that is all I need.
Maybe I am just sensitive to issues of time - because I never seem to have enough of it. I can think of ways to manage my days a little better, but reducing Sunday worship to 30 minutes is not one of them. Central Market for a cup of soup rather than cooking it and doing dishes afterwards - that's a possibility.
The big banner advertising a 30 minute worship service caught my attention because my own church is doing all they can to shorten the service supposedly to make more time for Christian Education. I am all for education, but in the case of my church, readings from the Scriptures are being omitted. Go figure . . .Because various members of our clergy and I have exchanged emails about my unhappiness with our present service format, I could not help but send each of them this picture with a note that read, "Perhaps they will share their tips." I have not had a response from any of the priests. Perhaps they fail to see any humor in the above picture.
On a serious note, why are we in a such a hurry? I have always been under the impression that we have fast food, one hour glasses, drive-thru banking, etc. to simplify the mundane tasks of life thus freeing up time for the more important things - like church. I am having a hard time figuring out what we are supposed to be doing with all of our time. What is so important that we need a 30 minute worship service?
There are Sundays when sleep seems more important to me than going to church, but there a very few times that I actually give in and stay in bed. If I am going to get up and go then I want to attend a full service. It is hardly worth getting up and dressed for 30 minutes. I could just turn on one of those televangelists if that is all I need.
Maybe I am just sensitive to issues of time - because I never seem to have enough of it. I can think of ways to manage my days a little better, but reducing Sunday worship to 30 minutes is not one of them. Central Market for a cup of soup rather than cooking it and doing dishes afterwards - that's a possibility.
Thursday, September 27, 2007
A Study In Contrasts
Erin has had a terrible cold this week. Last night when she went to bed, she said that she would probably not go to school today, but she would decide for sure in the morning. I set the alarm for my typical 6:15. As expected, she did not feel well enough to go to school. She rolled over and went back to sleep. In fact, we could all go back to bed for an extra hour or so. The dogs wanted to go outside first. Because I did not have to immediately begin the morning routine, I had a few minutes to walk outside with the dogs and enjoy the morning sky. I was so taken by what I saw that I went for my camera.
The following pictures were taken standing in exactly the same spot on my front porch - first facing west and then making a 180 degree turn to face east.
The following pictures were taken standing in exactly the same spot on my front porch - first facing west and then making a 180 degree turn to face east.
To the west, a bright full moon still lit the morning sky while to the east the first light of the sun was beginning to emerge.
Regardless of the direction, the way the clouds reflected the light was awesome.
At this moment, I had the option of following the sun and rising to meet the new day or, setting like the moon. I have always been one who prefers to live in the reflected light of others rather than in light that I create. I chose to follow the moon and set myself back in bed for an extra hour and a half. It felt good!
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