Paths

So I keep reading these blogs and thinking "I could do this" and so here I am.

Why is it that I can blog in my head for the past hour as I move about the house, but I get this damn window open and my mind draws a blank. Convenient, eh?

I would say I am a writer by nature, a narrator, but little is actually written. Because of this. Because each time I sit down it just doesn't come. But I am working on this. Here. Now. Writing for writing's sake.

I am kicking back waiting for our dinner guest. There is SO much stuff I could be doing, but it's not gonna make a huge difference. You see, I am chronically disorganized.

So chronically disorganized that there are literal paths through my home. One way lanes, if you will. My son, G wanted to show off his room to Robert, our dinner guest and long time friend. G's room is one of the worse offenders. Things have been just shoved into the open door. There really aren't any paths in there currently. It's a shame too. His room has long been my favorite room of the house. It was neat and orderly and exhuded this sense of peace. I loveed being in there, putting clothes away and such.

It's strange these paths we take in our lives. Stranger the ways in which they are drummed back up and thrown to the surface. We take the tougher path, because that makes us stronger, gives us a stronger sense of accomplishment. We know the tougher path gives us more love, more satisfaction. We make fun of those who took the easy way. Simple and straightforward. We wonder why we didn't choose the route. We wonder why we just have it be easy. A path is a path. A path teaches us, easy or hard.

I want the path of ease too. I want to get over chronic disorganization. I want cleanliness. I want order. I want ease. I want to know where I can go to get my book. My flashlight. My keys, for god's sake. Easy paths. It's such hard work to get there. (in some ways) and others (easy).

Damn this brain. This knowledge. It only gets me so far. And the rest? That is an enigma. A mystery.

*yawn* That is my cue. Body: you're tired. Mind: I have things to say here. I am still on a tangent, on a roll. Body: you and the baby are tired. Mind: I write well when I am tired. Body: You have to get up tomorrow and have lunch with Melissa. You need it. Mind: Indeed, more to think about then. Okay. I'm tired. Body: I will believe it when I see it. Mind: *yawn* Body: Let's go then....