I wrote a good deal in my personal morning pages. I didn't realize I had so much to get out. My penciled words started out small and controlled, and when I was two pages through, my handwriting had grown considerably larger and sloppier and I was having trouble keeping up with the words and I was fully aware of the state of flow; at the same time, I followed the words without tripping over thought. This was a good morning page in that I cleared my slate of what may have been cluttering up my thoughts.
Recently, at the change of certain events, I had a decision to make and I felt certain that I knew the answer, yet I needed to send it through another decision making process and called back an exercise I first did in a class called "Creativity and Intuition." I reached for my sketch pad, drew a line down the middle, and wrote the two decisions that were competing for my attention on the top of the page. One would have to be given up for now and I also had to see how I felt about it, in general, from my intuitive, subconscious self. Under each decision, I began doodling without thinking, I jotted a few random words, more doodles, squiggles. I started with one decision, then moved to the other; the answer was forming and it was clear which had to be let go. I also had the choice of maintaining both, but I needed to examine if this would be the best decision or would it be best to carry on with only the one without first knowing the outcome of the other. It was interesting to see the difference between each doodle--hatch marks and X's for one, while the other had fluid, calming shapes and designs. I realized that even if decision A did not work out, by the symbols I saw before me, my intuition was communicating to me what was below the surface and I knew why there had previously been hesitation for decision B. I hadn't done this exercise in quite some time and it felt good to see my decision confirmed in a different language.
Temperatures are supposed to reach the hundreds today. It already feels hot. I haven't gone outside, yet I can feel the heat trickling in through the open window.
I took this photo over the weekend. When I sat looking up at the tree with the sun beaming through the leaves, it felt like a slice of heaven; calling me to slip through the opening, to glide on the leaves burning with the fire of the sun--lighting them, as they lighted my soul.