After great pain a formal feeling comes--
The nerves sit ceremonious like tombs;
shot from the train crossing Ontario...
These two first lines have it exactly. Emily knows the heart. I have this rather bizarre formal feeling as I re-enter my life. I came back home late last night. I have an empty day - only one client and they decided without knowing what I was up to, to cancel so they could spend valentine's day with their sweetheart. All good. I'm puttering, being a humble householder, and that is good. Earth is good. Things to do are good.
But I drift and wonder and feel disconnected to the work I wish to enter again. I have lots of folks that inspire my writing - from a friend and family point of view I mean - but my Dad was the one I really wanted to write for. I just have to figure out how that works now that he is gone. I know he'd say the same things to me from wherever he might have gotten to - get your bum in the seat and get going!
Tomorrow Gwen is coming for our usual writing day. I will figure out what to do then. Today I will continue to putter and put my desk in some order. Thanks to everyone who left me messages. Your kindness is appreciated.