Small Stone, Day 2

Day 2, and I was wondering if I was going to be able to do this.
Woke up feeling fuzzy-headed, creaky, and old. I didn't want to do anything but go back to bed.
But, I had to go into the office today. Lots to do and no ambition to do it. Lack of ambition only holds you back if you let it, though. I got everything done I had to and came back home, hoping I would find a pebble to throw in the river today.

Ah, but first things first. I went back and polished yesterday's stone a bit, so I just wanted to put the shiny and (hopefully) improved stone back in the river while I'm here:

Ebony richness
transformed into deep caramel in my cup. 
The cup reaches my lips - 
the deep caramel becomes
liquid gold on my tongue. 

So, what do you think? Did I shine it up properly? Does it sing clearer?

I have such a hard time trying to polish my work. Most of the time, I just toss it and start over. But, since I had sent that out into the universe already, I couldn't toss it, could I? No, I couldn't. There's something about it that I like. It's rather simplistic, but at the same time, it sings to me.

Today's stone doesn't sing to me. At all. Not sure I like it, even though I followed the protocol of the challenge.

This is what was suggested that I do:
1) Keep your eyes, nose, mouth, fingers, ears, and mind open.
2) Notice what happens around you and inside you.
3) Write it down.

Sounds pretty damn easy, doesn't it? Sure....easy.
Yes, it's easy as long as the critic isn't awake and bitching while I'm trying to write. And I don't mean another person around me. I mean me. There are many parts to me - way too many to count, some days. Most of the time, they all coexist quite nicely. Thankfully, they never actually get to the point of revolution. But, it can get spirited inside me.

The critic was bitching the whole time today. All I kept hearing was how badly I sucked and how dare I have the audacity to think I could write. To listen to the critic, you'd think I spent time dreaming about being a world-famous author or something. I won't lie - I've had those daydreams from time to time. But, I'm also a realist. Writing is more for me than anyone else. I'm not saying it wouldn't please me if someone else got something out of it, but that's not why I do it.

So, after that small tiff with the critic, I banished her to her room so I could attempt this mindful writing thing I'm supposed to be doing.

I sat. I paid attention. I quieted myself. And that's when I noticed how loud silence really is. So, without further adieu, here is today's small stone:

Silence isn't really silent. 
I hear the hum of electricity and
the cheery click every once in awhile from my coffeemaker.
The oven beeps to let me know that it's pre-heated
while the laptop's fan sings it's hushed song. 
The house creaks, groans, and sighs, 
taking every opportunity to voice it's opinion. 
Silence is a lie.

So, yeah. It's not singing to me. At all. But, it's out there in the river now, and maybe the water will wash over it and bring out some sparkle. I can only hope.

If you'd like to check out more small stones and find out a little more about the Mindful Writing challenge, go here: http://www.writingourwayhome.com/

More tomorrow.
I hope.
And more than anything, I hope it sings.