Floating, adrift in a calm sea. Sails droop. Currents run deep and far from the surface. Lack of momentum, vacuum of passion, inner stillness...signs not of peace but stagnation. Metaphors proliferate. Becalmed seas. Fog.  I love to plan. Set goals. Celebrate accomplishments. Hit the wall hard when it doesn't work.

Goals narrow my focus, channel my energy. Point me in a direction. Keep me from spinning in circles. Give my life meaning. Make me feel useful. Tie me in knots. Limit my scope. Engage the linear brain. Shut down the creative process. Channel, limit, energize, impassion, enthuse.

A time to plan and a time to flow.
A time to speak and a time to listen.
A time for paragraphs, a time for mind maps.
Expand, contract. Receive, deliver.
Be willing to write crap. This is a mind map.

Happiness lets go of judgment, of grievances, of wanting things to go my way. Goals and expectations are of the darkness, not the light.

When I set goals and another person gets in my way, I generate a grievance. When I set goals and get in my own way, I generate a grievance. Grievances are clouds that obscure the light of joy in the world.

I will that there be light. I want to try (not ready to commit to) the life of flow. Let the Spirit speak. Let the Spirit act. I will listen.

I give thanks. For the cute fluffy affectionate cat. For the friends. For the sweetie. For the offspring. For the extended family. For the gift of time. For the gifts of health and challenge. For the gifts of talent and its absence.

For the light and for the clouds that help me seek the light. Long for the light. Turn to the light. Will that there be light.

I give thanks for writing. For words and thoughts. Words and thoughts are of the ego, but they can be asked to serve the Spirit instead. I ask my brain to resonate with God. A habit of forgiveness. A habit of seeing only the inner light of others and myself, not our messy shells.

Words that hurt when heard through the filter of ego are not real. Omissions that hurt when seen through the filter of ego are not real either. Emails not returned. Advice not asked for. Critique not welcomed. Gaps in attention. Missed understanding. How can they know so little of who I am?

One page of freely associated, goal-free words is another goal checked off the list!

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Thoughts leading one to the next without logic create unexpected patterns. Fractals. Chaos is pretty too. What happens when you sit down and let words flow? Try it out.