Relax

 

12 months ago I sent this postcard about my creative process, being in the moment, experiencing my senses, to subscribers to my Patreon. Usually I post fiction, something with a solid mask. For once I talked about myself, no matter how obliquely, and now it's time to release it to the world.

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Relax

I’m lying on my back on the grass, eyes shut. The shade of the tree keeps the sun from me so I am comfortably warm. I probably look relaxed, and perhaps I am.

I’m trying a new technique for writing something on a postcard for my patrons. I write them in advance; it’s July. What if I relax, empty my mind and see what happens?

It’s not quiet, never quiet. Paying attention to my senses I can hear the cars driving around town, even when they’re not coming up our street. The garden wall muffles the sounds from outside but cannot hide them. Someone calls at the corner, asking for someone else to wait.

Down here I’m sheltered, but the breeze is moving the branches, leaves rubbing against each other. The air briefly tugs at my face, my shirt. I feel the warmth soothing, the strain in back and hips slightly relieved.

Sweat runs down from my hairline.

This isn’t working of course. Oh, I’m relaxed. And for brief moments at a time I can stop my thoughts bouncing around my head. Just exist. But that’s just it. When there’s nothing being thought, nothing comes forward. It’s the most banal things that start up my internal voices. Something crawling on my leg. A motorbike roaring past. The seagulls screaming.

I’m just lying here. Nothing more. I’ll have to actually work at writing this postcard.