Minestrone

 I’m making my vat of soup (only one flavor this year)(maybe). It’s my annual favorite and I truly throw every vegetable I grow into it plus bone broth. This year most all of it is from my freezer, spinning frozen vegis into gold and making room in the freezer too hopefully.  Which perhaps is a metaphor for these blogs.

I sit down to write and root around for some image or sensation, some memory or feeling that seems to have  hmmm  some potential nutritional value for my life.   I keep hoping for some order, some organizing principle to emerge, (and hopefully some improvement in writing skills) but it stays, at least so far, sort of a minestrone of thought.   I read about writers who just force themselves to write even when they have no conscious “thing to say” but I find myself wondering what’s the point?   What does it accomplish?  I assume foremost is developing the habit of writing, that seems worth having. But truly would writing nonsense syllables do the same thing?  No.   I think it might allow for something to slip out of my mind,  And I may not see the patterns til I have a vat of them simmering in my unconscious     

I am finishing the initial adjust ment to The Change.  The habits are there but not strong enough to be neglected.  I’m making little adjustments to my living space and routines (have started dressing in front of the gas fireplace in the morn, surprisingly reminiscent of my fire at the farm). I gather ideas from folk I see about what’s on the menu, like cruises and traveling.  Thinking about traveling to see people I’ve lost touch with who live in foreign lands.   I contemplate finding a Cause to promote  but fear it being performative, like trying to fall in love.   If something grabs me, I’m willing to be swept up but I’m not going to fake it.    So now I really am Face to Face with the Second Step, as I’ve beaten that expression into the ground these last months.   But I think I am.  The move is done.  I’m here.   Now what??