I’ve had one of those weekends that did not have a brake. It just went careening, slithering, joyriding past me, leaving me completely pooped on Sunday night. I’m not complaining and I’m glad I’ve had a night’s rest.

But the hectic pace of the weekend creates that type of Monday morning when your to-do list is way long, but your mind has lost its power to prioritize. Thoughts wander, focusing on something, then unexpectedly rushing off in another direction. The to-do list sits there and mocks me, and I smile, knowing that the mind will settle, surely, but slowly. I need to give it that time.

And so I write my blog. The flow of words, bewitching, lyrical, so comforting. The process of squeezing them out of your gooey Monday morning brain and laying them out on this WordPress menu, in straight horizontal lines, not at all similar to the patterns in my head right now, which resemble a bizarre twisted painting!

Why do we procrastinate, then? Does it serve a purpose, this in-between state of mind? Or am I wanting to believe in the value of this warm-up session only to drive away the guilt of staying away from stuff I really really need to do! Guilt, so overrated, so unnecessary and yet driving so much of what we do, who we are. I want to put guilt into an air-tight ball and hurl it into outer space. I want to be selfish, but kind. And I want to trust myself and my ability to flow via abstraction into clarity, into and through the realm of thought into the arena of action. Inside me, I do believe the in-between space of life, of thoughts, of cities, of everything have as much meaning as the formed, tangible elements. And so I will enjoy my moments of free-flowing procrastination, on a sunny winter day when everything in my world is positioned to be joyful and meaningful.