Ma in her kerchief and I in my cap had just settled down for a long winter’s nap…

…When out in the blogosphere there rose such a clatter, I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter!

Seriously, folks, I have severe blogging issues.

First, as a preamble, let me explain how lovely it’s been to cease blogging on Lake Superior Spirit since last Wednesday.  A magnificent little break.

Quiet spaces of word-less being.

No written sentences.  No turns of phrase.  No opulent paragraphs.

You watch the squirrel munch on spruce cones.  You watch the chickadees flit from branch to branch.  You carefully wash dishes.  You carry in logs to fill your woodroom.

Cedar logs for kindling

It’s been a lovely non-blogging life here, indeed.

Until 4:30 a.m. the last two days.

That’s when you start dreaming.

“Ma in her kerchief and I in my cap had just settled down for a long winter’s nap…”

You dream that you’re writing a blog.

You write your blog for an hour in your sleep.  (I kid you not!)

You do this every morning for the last two mornings…even though you have no intention of writing a blog.

You wake up at 5:30 a.m.

Now you start writing a blog in your half-awake state.  You watch yourself writing words, sentences, paragraphs, entire blogs!

You finally drag yourself from your blog-induced sleep at 6:30 a.m.

When trees look like lightening

Your husband has dragged himself home from a musical gig sometime in the middle of the night.

“How was your blog?” you ask, sleepily.  “I mean, how was your gig?”

You sit on the couch and sip coffee with the bass player.

You talk.  You sip.  You watch your mind humming in the background–and you know what it’s doing, right?

It’s writing.

This mind has severe blogging issues.

You excuse yourself to check your blog.  See if anything exciting’s happened since last night when you last checked.  Nope.

Log etchings

OK, something exciting has happened here since last Wednesday.  This was the “clamor” in the blogosphere, in case anyone was still scratching their head about that crazy sentence up above.  Eighty-eight people googled “Yin Yang” this week and discovered your Yin Yang and in Pajamas Until Noon blog.

You think–I should write a real Yin Yang blog.  Your mind complies.  It starts writing words.

“This has got to stop,” you mutter to yourself, “what kind of blogging break is this?”

“Are you writing a blog today?” the bass player asks. “Didn’t you say you’d be blogging a couple of times a week?”

“I am meditating,” the blogger replies and heads down the basement.

You do know what meditating involved, don’t you?

It involved watching the errant blog-writing mind write blogs.  It writes ‘em without any provocation.   It writes ‘em because it likes words.

Who knows why the mind loves writing so much?  Why does it so often feel wildly passionately in love with words?  Why is it so often amused by the way words play with one another, the way they play hop-scotch and jump rope and twirl together?

Finally, in resignation, the meditator heads back upstairs.

“If I let you write a blog, will you be satisfied?” the meditator asks the mind. “Because you’re not getting another chance for a few days.”

The internal writer just smiles.  The typing fingers begin their clamoring  on the keyboard.

It’s a quiet day in the north woods.

I mean–it’s going to be a quiet day in the north woods–once this blog is written.

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43 responses to “Ma in her kerchief and I in my cap had just settled down for a long winter’s nap…

  1. you are so sweet and funny and dear, you know that?

  2. roflmao too funny! (but then not so much) What is an addiction? What is simple healthy outlet for expression–through which door all things decide it is good to come? What happens when there is a mass exodus toward the door all at once and everything gets stuck–and you dream all night of coordinating said expressions, to grant all a turn, to have that quiet mind? Does the mind not see that one is always always writing one’s story and in each notice of the eyes, the mind, or the other senses, there is expression?

    An expression appears without a blog nor reader, is it still an expression?? (that was supposed to be like that tree falling in the woods….)

    Big hugs! I’m on the way out the door to take K to do laundry and I”m bundling in 22 degrees to get tree place images, frost, blue skies, sun!!! Do you put out cut oranges for the birds?

    • G’morning, Elisa. I used to worry about the differences between addiction and passion….but not so much any more. I think writing can simply be a healthy outlet for expression (I was kinda teasing about “severe blogging issues” just cuz it sounded so funny to me). However, it does seem to be important to honor the other parts of self that like the silence and not the words so much. Nope re the oranges. We don’t have many orange-sucking birds this far north at this time of year. :)

  3. Hee hee ho ho ha ha … I adore you! Thanks for this morning’s offering and for arising to see “what was the matter” … Love ;your brain matter and the sweet treat of Sunday morning smiles and appreciation over its results via your blog. Have a wonderful, cozy day!

    • Why Susan D (sounding suspiciously like Mr. Claus himself!) ho ho ho to you too! I am thrilled that my joy resulted in your joy. :) You know, sweetie, I think I’m so relaxed it’s time to go back in the basement and meditate again. The mind may even be quiet! (And cozy.) Loves to you.

  4. What a special touch you have Kathy – you can write a blog post about writing a blog and not writing a blog all at the same time! ;-) Thanks for the Sunday morning smile.

    • Loving you, Karma! I was thinking this blog was jumpin’ around so much people might not even be able to follow it. But you proved it was possible. Have a great day!

  5. When your mind is furiously writing and your heart lets it happen, it’s time to sit down at that keyboard and share. There is no need to pencil in a schedule. The mind and the heart will tell you when.

    • Carol, I know just what you mean. We’ve got to let our heart decide! (But what if part of our heart loves the silence more than the other part of the heart? Which part of the heart should we listen to?)

  6. Kathy – I’ve been in that same place with my journal writing. It becomes such a part of us that our brain sends out alarms when we miss an entry. I’ve been “off” the writing for several years now but I still wake and fight with all the info processing through my head. I say, one day give into the blog and the next…. turn and flee to the basement to your quiet space. you always make me smile!

    • Susan, you have described my philosophy perfectly! Some days, it’s down to quiet meditation we go, no matter how the mind carries on. On other days, we’ll give the mind a little tiny break. It sounds like you’ve figured out the secret formula. :)

  7. It’s amazing the time and space we find when we eliminate something in our daily routines. Sounds like a beautiful break…and that you’re learning ‘balance’. Terrific post!!

  8. So glad to hear all is well in the little house in the big woods. Will Barry and the gang be playing in Lake Front Park this summer? (Hmmm … maybe that question is a bit too early) You know they say that Twitter is the methadone for bloggers … just sayin’.

    I wonder if Betty Ford Clinic has a practice concentrating on bloggers.

    • I have no idea if the band will be playing there this summer, yet. I don’t think they’ve even begun scheduling. As for Twitter, no, no, no. I tried it once. That lasted less than a month. I must not be a methadone blogger, LOL! Can’t do Facebook either. Too few words, you know. Those people like to contain their words, can you imagine? They abbreviate their sentiments! They make things short and sweet. I prefer to go on for 1,000-2,000 words. As for Betty Ford, I’ll only agree to it when the passion subsides… **smile**

  9. Wow, I think this “break” has done you well, Kathy. This is really, really well done, my friend–not only the narrative quality of the post–but also its resonance for those of us who write. I’ve not read all of the comments above, but if others are like me, they have been here–can’t keep from writing even in their sleep. And framing the piece with the Christmas classic–brilliant!
    Kathy

    • Kathy, I have put you in my “people who I adore” category. **grin** Thank you, thank you, thank you (did I say thank you?) for inspiring my love of writing! You rock, girlfriend. (Or what would be a better way to say that?) You are the Spirit of Christmas–for me!

  10. It’s amazing what a few days off can do to fuel the creative/insistent mind! :) This post was beautifully written, Kathy. I can relate completely– I’ve often composed entire diatribes in my head while walking, trying to sleep, and yes, even meditating. Glad to hear I’m not the only one!

    • Dana, thank you, thank you, did I say thank you? I feel so honored by those of you writers who are honoring and encouraging and expressing understanding. I am glad–and sorry–to hear about your own diatribes. How familiar am I! Thank you for reading and commenting and being Dana. No wonder there’s a day honoring after you.

  11. Kathy, I just love you! Wishing your internal writer a most wonderful day…….

    • Colleen, I feel like I’m in an Adoration Society, adoring all you commenters. Who else gets wonderful words for Christmas like “Kathy, I just love you!” I am the luckiest blogger on the planet. (OK, a person, too.) I adore YOU, Colleen! Thank you, thank you, and sixteen other thank yous.

  12. Kathy,
    Thanks for stopping by my blog because that led me to you and to this blog! Fantastic! I love it. You have a great writing style, and the way you molded the piece around the jingle was perfect. Very well done, and I will be back, I’m sure!
    Cecelia

    • Cecelia, I am delighted that you responded and visited this blog with its Christmas jingles and other craziness. Kathy McCullough has led me to so many interesting blogs that I feel like it’s Christmas every day I read a new one. Thank you!

  13. I’m with that little inner blog voice. You need to write sometimes. You are marvellous at it and I hope it brings you as much joy as it brings us. Don’t fight it girl.

    • Sybil, you are a sweetheart. Thank you! Writing always brings me joy. Silence brings me joy, too. What’s a human being to do? Find balance, I hope! (P.S. I have another blog already written. It’s sitting in the blog folder awaiting its proper unfolding. We shall see when that will be. Today…or in six days…) Thank you for your words.

  14. Kathy – You CRACK me up!

  15. You have a delightful writing style. I’m glad you let it come out to play.

  16. I think no poems this week but then something happens and another poem is born. Do keep writing as I love reding your words. :)

    • Looking forward to writing again soon, Claire. Isn’t that funny that you think you won’t write another poem, and yet another one arises? The poems are simply using your typing fingers to express their truth and beauty and joy. (That’s what I often think.)

  17. Quite addicting, this blogging thing, isn’t it?
    I have nothing scheduled yet for my blog tomorrow, and I have been thinking about it ALL day, wondering what I will post tomorrow. I really wish I could be like you and take a little blogging break.

    • It’s both easy and hard to take these little pauses, Michaela. Part of me still wants to be posting and writing stories and showing pictures every day. But I know if I do that it will also involve more commenting and reading other blogs and checking hits and now it’s important to focus on my family… Christmas smiles to you. (We’re several states closer to you now.)

  18. “I love writing. I love the swirl and swing of words as they tangle with human emotions.” ~ James A. Michener

    Kathy, only you can write an engaging blog about blogging… I love the log etchings photo – do you know if they were etched by humans or animals?

    “Winter is an etching…” ~ Stanley Horowitz

    • I love the quotes, Barbara. Thank you for your kind words–I especially love writing engaging blogs about blogging! (tee hee.) We think tiny microscopic animals made those etchings. Those etchings were their underground trails, between wood and bark, paths of dark meanderings… Winter etchings to you…

  19. This is the season for quiet reflection. I totally get it. Happy Solstice to you and yours.

    • Tis indeed, dear Quiet Spirit. It seems also the time to focus attention on family members whom you haven’t seen much during the previous year. I like to listen quietly to what they want to share–and, of course, to add tidbits, too. Happy Solstice to you and your family!

  20. I know the feeling. I know it rather too well…
    Today, Christmas Day, I have been reading blog posts. Nearly all day. Pitiful. However, if I hadn’t been – I wouldn’t have seen your post. :)

  21. :D I love this! Very clever and amusing and heartfelt ♥ Merry Christmas Kathy…so glad the papa Santa found his way safely to your cozy home in the northwoods ♥

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