it’s just three pages

Some of you seeing this know that I write “Morning Pages” every morning. A practice I began June 2011 and have continued every day since – three pages in a (wide-ruled) notebook. Again today, hanging with my brother Chuck Berry, “No particular place to go.” Julia Cameron in her book “The Artist Way” with this one one law – Just fill up three pages.

The material, the filler, had ebbed and flowed, changing through the decades the way my physical and emotional, perhaps, even, my spiritual self has changed. These last few years I believe it’s something of a ratatuoille of broken heartedness and a forever more spacious Zen practice. Moving here and there, and money, and out from retirement, and books I’ve read and now read – perhaps its the seeing with my feet, hearing with my eyes. The air that I breath. The air I breath through my one hand.

For whatever reason and plethora of factors, I come to my Pages these days, usually around five in the morning, all ears. A kind of sitting down giddyness, alert to what arrives out from the tip of the pen. Am I hosting? Am I the guest? Anyway, it’s often like this, from 25 minutes ago:

“The experience of being entirely alone on the walk through the luscious Johnson Ranch, and never alone – the golden grass, the green oaks, gatherings of tall, yellow flowers, the warmth of the sun, shirtless body. Aretha singing, ‘Who’s zoomin’ who?’”

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