BB bounced into the room, ready for ~~ well, I wasn't quite sure what she was ready for. She was dressed head-to-toe in her trademark black: shirt, skirt, leggings and shoes. The eye-popping difference was the magenta scarf looped at her neck and hanging to her waist.
As I reached for my first glass of burgundy for the season, I observed her. it was difficult to tell what kind of mood she was in. So I took a sip and took a chance.
"BB, hon, where are you off to?"
"Oh," she startled as though she hadn't noticed me in the 8x10 foot kitchen, sitting on a stool at the island in its center. I'm only 6'4" but you'd have thought I was invisible.
"I'm off to the school play," she said, twirling. "How do I look?"
Questions like that are free-floating mines in the ocean of dad-daughter relationships.Although this may not be a polished story ~ or even a complete one, I love the prompts where the story shows up when bidden ~ even in a certain timeframe. Not always the pattern for for my writing. When it does happen, it feels like grace ~ and a blessing from the Divine. The Divine, for me, is that place of flow and peace and trust. Whatever anyone else may wish to name it, it's the feel that matters.
My choice of cards was random with the cards spread out on the carpet and me grabbing the two that glittered their call to me. When I sat down to write, I noticed the numbers on the cards: 16 and 17. In the 'deck' or booklet, they are next to each other. On the floor they were half a deck apart. Another sweet coincidence. More things to love.
How does flow happen for you? What creative endeavor do you spend time on or with? How do you feel when that creative flow occurs for you?
