A Flying ‘Shiny Object’ - Staying on Course
I'm in a swarm of words, editing them and flies... they are a'flying. We have these things called fair weather flies. You can smell them a mile or two away. And I did last night.
When they come, its – all hands on deck, turn off the bloody lights – which yes, I did scream internally that is, thankfully, for the neighbors, I’m sure, as it was just me here, in paradise, last night.
It’s a moment of, done, the end, pull the covers up and go to sleep.
These creatures come in a black swarm-cloud at sundown-ish. And when I call them a swarm, I’m serious as hell.
They are attracted to the light and for all accounts and purposes they come to the light to fly about and die.
They aren’t big. They don’t buzz like a fly individually but together, wings a flutter, they sing their own song. And multiply and multiply and land on any service they see.
Even me. Skin-crawl shiver. Ick.
Hence, bed, covers, lights out. Night-night.
Even if the lights are off, like mine were last night, if windows are open, which mine were as it’s hotter than the hottest of hots here, they come on in.
An uninvited guest to take up space on countertops, piled on the floor, leaving you to waken to a mess.
So after feeding the five baby goats, I swept.
And swept.
And swept.
Some still wiggling and writhing in their early morning graveyard pile.
Some gone. Eaten by the lizards during a most delicious night.
And as I now sit at my desk, a fan blowing on one side of me. Citronella moving freely all around me – Did I mention there are monster mosquitoes right now too? Sometimes flying together, two-by-two.
Mid-flight mating, or what?
(Nature is so insane!)
Anyhoo, I sit at my desk to edit the day away and notice I missed a few bodies on my sweep this morning.
And just the thought of grabbing my broom
has an idea tumbling round and round
inside me.
Has this ever happened to you?
You’ve got things to do,
but damn something shiny and new pops up.
And you’re off to the races…
I call foul, game over
before you even stepped up
to the plate of you.
This right here is the pandemic that kept me stuck (in the past) forever and ever, amen.
If you feel me, give me a hell yeah, sunshine.
Leave me a comment after this read if you can relate. I want to hear from you, just how this way of showing up has impacted you in creating your most delicious life.
Because seriously.
This right there, is the root cause of all that has ailed me...
and perhaps you too.
From lack of worth,
lack of self confidence,
not feeling good enough,
not loving me…
completely.
Thankfully that shit is in the past, but seriously,
how can one love themselves
when they jump faster than a rabbit
from thang to thang..?
Never following through,
never following up,
never being true.
To their word.
To themselves.
Ah, bloody hell – this thing called integrity.
So even though simply the thought
of a fresh sweeping up
a mount of new
fair weather fly dead bodies
brought forth a flood of ideas…
It was on me to act or not.
And one such idea, so delicious I had to jot down three lines, so I’d remember makes me smile and want to dive in with utter delight.
This one in particular I’ll call F*cking Salad,
also an essay in my upcoming book…
one of four I’m currently writing, because prolific is me.
And now, thanks to this need
to sweep up the dead bodies
littered around me,
may also become it’s own
living, word-breathing reality.
I will not go down the F*cking Salad rabbit hole right now though.
I will not stop my flow.
I have committed to editing,
to staying on task,
to releasing this (first - gasp) book as me
and I will not allow myself to stop me…
Can you say that same?
Focus. Such a delicious word.
Don it today and see how radically it reshapes your life.
💜
And if you feel daring…
Share in a comment how you plan to stay focused on what’s most important and will build forward movement for you.
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an essay that might be in or might be on the cutting room floor
with those leftover fair weather fly bodies.
To be swept up again at noon.
(shiver)
Yep, it is a bit gross. But it’s part of life.
Just like cleaning up the mess and starting fresh –
staying focused, no judgement.
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Photo Credit: Mathew Schwartz @cadop