When I was writing about music as meditation the other day, I kept mis-spelling the word meditation. Every time I wrote it, the word came out as medication. I did it every single time I tried to write meditation. Meditation? Medication.<\/p>\n
I did it just now, too. More than once.<\/p>\n
Finally, I decided that it was a clue that I should use it as part of the post, and I did. <\/p>\n
Freudian slip or just a common typo?<\/p>\n
Both. <\/p>\n
Ideas come in strange ways. They sneak up on you and sometimes they don’t wait long for you to notice them. You have to be paying attention. You have to be willing to get up at night and write them down. You have to be willing to recite them to yourself in the car over and over until you can stop and write them down. (Note to self: turn Siri back on and learn to use it.) You have to look at things a little sideways and kind of squinty. You have to have a tolerant workplace who doesn’t mind a little idea scribbling during work hours in small doses. Friends and family who don’t mind when you get out your phone and start writing yourself a note while you’re out for drinks. <\/p>\n
It’s fun, mostly.
\nAnd it drives me a little crazy.<\/p>\n
Ultimately, it’s good for me on many levels. Since I have convinced myself that I have to do this everyday, it forces me to pay attention because I have to feed the blog. <\/p>\n
Granted, that’s a crutch, but it spills over into other areas. Paying attention might become habitual. Don’t hold your breath. Oh, right–breathing goes along with paying attention.<\/p>\n
If only I could pay attention to making sure the kitchen is clean. Too bad. Can’t. Have to think of something to write in the blog tomorrow.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"