Morning Pages

because the computer was within reach.

I am sitting on the couch, with my four month old snuggled sleeping in the crook of my rib cage and the cushion I flip over for ease in feeding her. I some how can arch my elbows up and over for my hands to land on the keyboard to type this message. It is 10 in the morning, but you could just as well guess that it is evening for it has been raining since the sun came up. It’s raining hard too, sheets of water coming down with thunder here and there. I don’t mind it. A true invitation to move slow, be quiet, and listen in.

I really don’t have an agenda in opening this draft message, but I have spent a little too much time scrolling on my phone this morning and I would like to stay still to soak in this nap with P. Part of me knows I should just sit quietly, but my brain is a little chattier than I would like and my computer was within reach. So I arrived here. I guess this could serve as my morning pages for the day since I didn’t get to crack open my actual journal. I recently got a new one and haven’t found the just right writing utensil that glides easily on the page. My typical mechanical pencil keeps getting caught, tearing tiny holes in the page. It is a beautiful shade of blue, but because of this functional hang up, I haven’t had been as excited to grab it in the morning. So there it will sit on my coffee table, until I have some time to test out each pen in our basket.

Petra just woke up so peacefully, eyes just searching slowly. I am assuming this is a practice to get reacquainted with where she is. I have been thinking about the strange magic that it is to be a baby napping, likely forgetting where you fell asleep or waking somewhere totally new. If that happened to me I think I would completely freak out, but most of the time for her she just looks, takes it in, stretches her body and continues to wake.

The rain has stopped now, but the clouds are still overcast. Lingering like the rain could start back again any moment. You can fell it warming up, but our second story windows invite the cool post rain breeze in and I can’t help but take big deep breaths of it in.

Alex and Petra are on the floor now, atop of blankets that have earned a new permanent place in our living room. A small handful of toys spread out. I stare at them between sentences. Watching Alex, watch her. Listening to the gremlin grunts and hiccups. Alex nudging her to roll with his nose.

It is sweet to be in the quiet of our own space all the while downstairs in RESOURCE, the Open Market, is happening. RESOURCE is a community/art space we caretake for with another neighbor. I know it is probably due time for me to write an entire post about RESOURCE and the happenings there. Actually I think did write one once, but it was already back in 2024. Wait, have I been sharing stuff on here that long? Not that two years is particularly a long time, but my ideas on time have recently shifted having a baby in front of me. A LOT can happen in a day, a week, a month. Total transformations in a moments time. Anyway, I will share more about RESOURCE, but for today’s purposes Open Market is happening, which is a free grocery store pop up. Yes, totally free. You come, you grab what feels right, you hopefully run into a friend, a neighbor, or meet someone new. Today it is stocked with so much beautiful fruit. Mangos, berries, bananas, apples, stone fruit galore. I was most excited to see that there were cherries on the shelf, as well as some heirloom tomatoes when I stopped down during set up this morning. I know we will head back down shortly to to help restock the shelves or say hi to some friends. I should share more about Open Market here too because you could start one with the help of some friends.

I feel the clock ticking on my quiet writing moment. This blank page on the computer always asks for more words than my notebook does and it can feel easy to trash something if it doesn’t feel like it hits critical mass or leaves a clear message. That voice can feel loud. Throw it all away. Who wants to read these inner thoughts? And at the same time, I trust that I was called to open the space. Whether archive for myself or potential reflection point for the reader there is no reason to hit the backspace till the words are gone. Sometimes it is easier to type than to write and sometimes you just gotta throw it into the air. So that is what I will do. Send it off into the wild wild west of the web.

I hope you find these morning pages as an invitation to write your own, eat a good looking tomato, or snuggle with those you love.

Until next time.