Caesura
There’s a term in poetry the caesura. A space between words to indicate a short pause a lull. Not quite a holiday. More like a day off. Or something like that. That’s what I feel like for today. After all the hustle and bustle of the past 2 weeks, preparing for Rowan’s 4th birthday, hosting his party and his grandparents, working my regular schedule plus preparing for my first teleclass, the Art of Spring Cleaning, which is now available as a free recording. All the time and energy getting the word out, also known as marketing, something that goes against my grain when I’m doing it for myself, and of course putting the actual call together…
I could feel a bit of scratchiness in the back of my throat yesterday, and I opened my calendar this morning with the fervent hope that I would see what I saw, what I would see right now if I were looking at my calendar instead of the blank canvas I am writing on, which end up being the same thing: space unstructured time caesura a lull.
Another reason I do what I do
So yesterday after dropping Rowan off at school, on my way to teach my Tuesday morning yoga class, a little opening made its way into my consciousness. It was a Got To Do day. One of those super focused sorts of days that are a blessing and an inevitability to a procrastinator like me. I had things that I had to do–no way around it–and everything came into clear focus and I was on.
The demand to be on and in focus is such a delight! And as I rounded Jamaica Pond on my way to Brookline I suddenly realized that I had plenty of time to prepare for my call, after teaching my class. And the best use of my 75 minute window was not to arrive at the health club early, pull out my laptop, and pretend to be getting things done while bouncing from one window to another wondering what to do first, or what to take care of before getting on to the real business at hand.
No. The best thing to do was to park my car and walk around the pond! “The hell”, I thought, “why else do I have this crazy schedule of working 7 days a week, odd hours, and all over God’s green Earth? This little chunk of time here is exactly the freedom I am craving. And it’s right here!” So I parked. I got out of my car and walked the pond.
Lull Time
It was a beautiful morning. Cool, bright, and quiet. Twice I saw a woman running who was so far listing over to her left that she looked like she should be in a wheel chair. I saw an older fellow in a beret who looked like he had spent a good chunk of time in France and spent his days now hanging out in the parks and the cafes, writing poetry with the requisite caesurae. And I walked past a trans-gendered woman sitting on a park bench sketching the pond and 3 baby goslings with their Canada parents. I side-stepped horse poop left by the mounted police.
It was refreshing it was vital a lull a caesura a space in between. It was exactly what I needed. A perfect reminder of why I do what I do, to have the freedom to take that stroll. And that 45 minutes did more to move me forward and further my business, by giving me a vision and a reason to put up with the horse shit of crazy schedules and scraping by and talking about myself…a perfect complement to seeing Rowan pedaling up the sidewalk on his bike, and a premonition of the lull I have earned for myself today!
What have you done recently to earn a celebration, a rest, a moment of delicious reverie? And how did you celebrate?
Pax!
Chas
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