Today’s entry is not quilting. No pattern, no stitches, no machines. I’m taking a quick breath while I finish my morning coffee and our home sits under the clouds of a morning rain.
Sometimes we get caught up in the day to day activity of surviving. Occasionally there is an opportunity to pause , and rest, like you would at the top of a long hard climb.
When I get winded, journaling is one way that I do that. I happened across a journal entry that I spontaneously decided to write last year when I was sitting on an airplane that was boarded but held waiting for takeoff. Grammar or any comments of “why” put aside, it represented my mundane life at that moment. I was leaving Kansas City on a business trip. The best description I have for how I felt was “Calm” like I had just let out a deep breath after a scurried race through madness.
Here is what I wrote:
“We sit on the runway, the lights blinking yellow out the second-row window. I sit middle sit in a capacity plane. We roll on the tarmac, with the roar of the engines, toward San Diego. A destination of respite after a half a week of antiquated equipment issues and developmental product delivery schedule issues. A haze hangs over the city, still green, despite a summer in the Midwest. The landscape is a puzzle of suburban sprawl and rural charm, fields breaking the horizon until we lift unto the clouds, pure wisps of moisture.