Obsessive Moderate

I'm an obsessive moderate. I require balance.


I need the weather somewhere between hot enough to provide heat stroke and cold enough to be wary of frostbite. Both come rather easily to me. I've been on the edge of both and I don't appreciate edges. I prefer slow inclines and easy descents. Up and down is fine, as long as they are in smooth, relaxed motions. My mood tends to stay fairly stable; I'm not easily rattled, easily excited, or easily angered (more so than before, but military life and parenting and rude drivers in congested traffic will tend to strain patience levels). I need my schedule -- the routine that provides a comfort zone. It may be a lenient schedule, as a strict disciplinarian type, I am definitely not, but it matters to my mental state. During this schedule, I need a slow wake-up time, a productive "play" time, a time slot for some kind of physical movement to get the blood circulating, time to get business-type work done, and then time to do "my" stuff (most often that means writing time). I like to read before bed, pulling me from the "real" world into a transitional phase before I give in to the dream world. Interruptions in this balance I've created for myself will surely set me on edge. Too many of these interruptions will push me over the edge.

And you thought this month would be all about Nanowrimo.

It is. By my counter to the left, that little blue box that shows my progress or lack of, it's quite apparent I have more "lack of" progress than actual progress so far. There have been too many interruptions. I have time at night to write, yes. What I don't have is the balance in my brain that allows me to push other thoughts away enough to write. To be on track, I need to hit 20,000 words by tonight, which means adding over 10,000 words. I somehow don't see that happening. On good days when I do little else, I can write between 5,000 and 6,000 a day. Those days are rare. I average 1,000 words an hour when it's going well.

However, it's still quite achievable to hit the 50K mark by the 30th. I need only to average just over 2,000 words a day. Yes, quite achievable.

Yesterday, I relished in the luxury of a mid-November warm-up. Running around in only a light cotton blouse (and my jeans, of course) with the car windows down and the sun streaming upon my skin, I knew it was likely the last day of the year for such a luxury and therefore, absorbed it into my soul as well as I could. I took the photo shown in this post as well as a few others, appreciating the beauty of "my" trees.

Today, after a full night of streaming rain and the light howl of an occasional gust of wind, I look out and watch the leaves being torn from the branches amongst the gray of a wintery sky. Nature is indeed balancing itself. While I sigh over the lack of color that I will miss until spring, I enjoy the starkness of the tree trunks, their lines strong and graceful, branches dancing with the wind and resting with its calm.

And I know this is a good writing day.

Yesterday I played in the weather like the squirrels chasing each other up and down the trunks and leaping from branch to branch. Today I am settled in and ready to turn my attention to the solitude of the keyboard clicking and the coffee relaxing and invigorating me all at once.


"And the self-same well from which your laughter rises was often-times filled with your tears.
Kahlil Gibran