Slowing Down...Finally
The past few weeks have been hectic and writing letters has existed mostly on my to do list. I regret this, of course and admit that I am entirely to blame though I would like to cast blame on a hectic schedule. I see from my last post that lately I have really had a problem sitting down to write. I find that when I am content to let a good deed remain a mere good intention, having good intentions becomes easy and comfortable and I can soon congratulate myself on meaning well. Meaning well doesn't quite earn the same sort of credit as doing well, does it?
Today I jumped of the merry-go-round of business and sat down to write. It felt so good to put pen to paper with the thoughts of my heart directed toward another person. This is the sort of comfort I enjoy most so how can I neglect it even for a day? Writing a letter feels as good as wrapping myself in a blanket and reading a Jane Austen novel. Tomorrow when I sit down with Jane I will sit also with paper and pen ready for a dear one to come to mind. And when they do I will tell them so. Good deeds are so much more rewarding than good intentions.
Today I jumped of the merry-go-round of business and sat down to write. It felt so good to put pen to paper with the thoughts of my heart directed toward another person. This is the sort of comfort I enjoy most so how can I neglect it even for a day? Writing a letter feels as good as wrapping myself in a blanket and reading a Jane Austen novel. Tomorrow when I sit down with Jane I will sit also with paper and pen ready for a dear one to come to mind. And when they do I will tell them so. Good deeds are so much more rewarding than good intentions.
