This Kind of Time

It was a fitful night of sleep.  The stimulation of the long drive, meeting the other artists and writers, and getting oriented to the place made it difficult to settle.  Also - the birds!  It was as if I was standing (or laying down) in the center of an amphitheater and the birds were cheering in concentric rings around me - rings and rings extending outwards for miles.  I am not a stranger to nature but this…I have never heard such a raucous chorus!  Hey birds - chill out!

Above and beyond the newness of it all, I could feel in my body a growing anxiety as the night wore on and I was still awake.  "Oh no, my day will be ruined tomorrow if I am so tired.  How will I get everything done?"  And then I realized, there is no where to go, nothing needs to get done, no one is looking over my shoulder.  I can sleep or not sleep.  I can eat or not eat.  I can lay in bed til noon (or beyond), if that's what suits me.  I can do a two-hour yoga practice.  I can sit meditation all day long.  I can go for a hike or a bike ride or drive into town.  Or - wait for it - I could make art.

I have forgotten, if I ever knew, what this kind of time is like.

I will not lay in bed 'til noon.  No.  My thought has been: how do I honour this opportunity that has been given to me?  I think the answer is, do what's needed.