Avoidance

I am like an old man, coughing and spitting up phlegm. At least I spit into a tissue and not on the ground. But I tell ya, the temptation is great to hold a contest with my neighbours to see who can spit the farthest.

Cold within and cold without. I am not having a good week. But here's this week's epiphany: whether I am sick or well, my activities don't change much. What I do day to day matters not a whole lot to anyone right now. My destiny is absolutely in my hands.

I asked my heart, How do I want to spend my time then? To my surprise, I answered, I want to draw, paint, and write. Then I was surprised that I was surprised.

Last night, I went down to the basement and looked for my drawing materials. I found my art books and art supplies. No exaggerating, my hands trembled and my heart fluttered when I picked up my sketch pad and supplies bag. I brought them upstairs and laid them out on the table.

Today, my supplies and I stare at each other every time I pass by. Settling down is not one of my strengths. Instead, I take out my new lithium battery powered cordless drill and examine the parts. I take out the vacuum cleaner and vacuum the house. I make oxtail stew and eat it. And now that I think of it, I have to do laundry and clean the window blinds. The blinds haven't been cleaned in months.

I know, avoidance.

Here I go then...