Tag: signs

Dear Universe,

roughmockup
Poem for a New Year print

All right, already, universe.  I get it. I need to slow down and stop skimming.

Sometimes, when things get really crunched for time and I have projects piling up I realize I am playing a little game with reality where I  just pay attention to the main points, assuming I’ll be able to come back later and pick up the details when I can focus on them better. But, once in awhile, something happens and I realize that plan is not working out so well. Some critical points (and experiences) are dropping through the cracks, when I “speed-read” my life, like this. The real thing to remember is that when I’m living in fast-forward I’m not really saving myself much time to savor the things I plan to go back for later. There’s always something else getting added to the triage pile. And once I really get going, the mistakes that start happening end up taking longer to fix than simply hitting pause and adjusting my brain to real-time world.

A couple things happened the last few days putting that into perspective. I had a few conversions I didn’t really absorb until later. I had to circle back on a project brief a few times to make my brain see it. Some of that stuff is a normal part of life in society today, but some of it is bad. As in, it’s not me or how I want to live my life. This skimming has already been on my mind, I even wrote out a post-it note to myself about it. Sometimes writing something down makes my brain “get it” and kick it in faster. I was hopeful. But today, while doing about 15 things at once, I realized… Oops! I just deleted all the photos on my camera BEFORE I loaded them into the computer. Yep, that stinks. Dang it.

Gone are all the photos of the prints at the gallery, now. No way to take new photos. Gone is the awesome photo of the crazy salad I made the other night that made me smile. All those little moments and great pictures, gone

So, yes, Universe. I hear you.

I already heard you but now you just kicked me in the shins, where it really hurts, like a three-year-old who feels ignored. Sigh.