My room is cluttered with dirty dishes, books, and scribbled paper. My thoughts are even more cluttered. Writing becomes difficult without the proper inspiration and I feel as if I am clutching frantically at creativity without any avail. I look towards the unsullied mountains and the cracked earth for motivation. The wind stirs up my soul and the first cool scent of autumn hangs on the breeze like a kite. But still nothing. I am too caught up in life. My tangled thoughts aren't allowing the inspiration to flow.
However, being caught up in life isn't all that bad. I can look into the shining face of my little sister and find peace. I can laugh from the pit of my belly at my brother's jokes and find comfort. I can seek new horizons by opening up a history book and I can regenerate with nothing but the quiet country land stretched out before me. Motivation and inspiration will come soon enough. In the mean time, while I am waiting for the fog to clear, I will relish these moments of being 'caught up' in my blessed, beautiful life.
B r i o n y