unplanted

just don’t look at the clock

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A few weeks ago, I set out to build a desk that’d be just for me. Something solid enough to set my laptop on and sturdy enough to rest my elbows on when my hands stop moving across the keyboard. I aimed for something unique, something that looks cool enough to be at least moderately impressive. And I did what I usually do: I approached the project without any plans. No measurements, no cut list. Just an idea and a cool piece of an old pallet that I wanted to serve as the front.

I’ve been building the desk for three weeks now. It comes together and then I find mistakes. I take it apart and decide on a new approach. I drill and screw and cut and measure and recut. Then I take the whole thing apart again.

Finally, finally, it started coming together tonight. In my mind, it’s pretty damn impressive. In the garage, it looks like some lumber screwed together haphazardly.

It’s going to look amazing. In time.

………….

L decided a few days ago that we should push one another to go to the gym. We each have memberships, but rarely workout. I was going pretty regularly before J and I broke up. My gym is on the way home from work, and it was a nice stop-over on my way home, where things were becoming less comfortable. Working out was good self-care. I was strengthening the shoulder I’d broken a few months before. I had more energy. I could feel my body starting to change. More than anything, I worked out to de-stress.

So I’m back at it, hoping to make this a regular thing again. I might need L’s encouragement from time to time, and I’ll return the favor when she needs a little push.

With some of the machines, I have no idea what I’m doing. Instead of asking someone, I just glance occasionally at someone who’s using the same machine and try to do what they’re doing, all while doing my best to not look like an idiot.

I wish I could approach exercise as fervently as I approach woodworking. If I can keep it up, I’ll figure things out and eventually I’ll do it right and my body will start to transform. I have no vision of what I will look like along the way. I only know that I’ll be healthier mentally and physically.

I’m going to feel great. In time.

………….

Through an odd series of events, I started chatting online with a psychic the other day. It’s not what you think; she’s not giving me glimpses of my future or calling up people from beyond. We’re talking about the metaphysical, something I’ve been quite interested in yet know very little about.

P is very open to questions and is generously letting me pick her brain. I told her that I am working on a book that’s somewhat metaphysical in theme. I explained Scott’s death and the shape and scope of Acceptance and, through our conversation, I’ve found myself almost ready to begin working on the book again.

It’s strange how these things happen, how I can completely unexpectedly fall into a conversation with a psychic who lives in another country, how I can feel safe telling her some pretty intense stories, and how it all makes me want to return to work on something that’s very important to me.

I’m looking forward to seeing where our conversation takes us, and I’m anxious to learn as much as I can from P, to swap ideas and form, challenge, or reinforce my beliefs. I feel like this is the spark I’ve needed. My world has shifted in the past few months and I have the space in my life to reengage with Acceptance. It felt impossible to work on while J and I were together—for several reasons. But now, I’m ready to write what needs to be written, and no one has to give me permission to do so.

Daunting as it feels, I just might be able to finish the book. In time.

………….

Everything is starting to come together.

It’s becoming clear that I can have that undefinable it. That I can become stronger, more confident, more driven to create. That I can build a desk and sit at it and write a book that needs to be written.

Coming to that realization, recognizing that I can return fully to my most essential me, is both wonderful and terrifying. I remind myself that this is not a race, that all I need to focus on is the want and the possibility.

I’m moving forward with a vision but no plan. Cautiously, mindfully.

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Author: Kim Sharp

more later

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