That Feeling of Disconnect

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I’ve felt disconnected today, a little like this tulip poplar bloom, or rather what’s left of it—petals scattered around on the ground.  I felt disconnected from my camera yesterday—not sure really why. I checked the settings; I tried some “new” stuff. I even switched lenses. My Lensbaby usually sparks something. But yesterday, I was disconnected.

I thought about that today as I wrote my usual morning pages. There are mornings when the words flow from the pen as the ink flows through the nib. Today, the ink ran out. Really, the ink ran out, and instead of words flowing, they skipped, spaces between the letters, blanks. Disconnected.

I had set an intention this month of participating in the 100 Days Project. My intention was/is to create something daily—whether it’s the flower drawing in my planner or some kind of digital art or some paper craft. And I have, but today, I feel disconnected. I pick up the tools—camera, colored pencils, mouse, Wacom tablet and stylus. . . . And I wait.

Yet, in spite of the disconnect, I am still showing up. I wrote those morning pages—all three of them. I haven’t drawn the flower yet, or created something from the digital images I received yesterday. Instead, I’ve gazed out the window at the cardinals swooping in for the seeds in the feeders. I’ve read a sappy Regency romance. And I haven’t cheated yet to get to see how it’s going to end. I loaded my essential oil diffuser with an Elevation blend (doTerra). And I am “indulging” myself. I am seeking the connections. I am learning the value of showing up even in the disconnect. For, as “they” say, “This, too, shall pass.”

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I love conversation, the close, intimate kind amongst friends. Won't you join me? I look forward to a good coze.

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