The plan to learn Spanish continues. I’ve bought books. It means something beyond a language. It means contact with another way of being, more direct, more yang – a hidden part of me.
I have been to the bookshop and bought Spanish books – parallel text short stories, a dictionary, Spanish for Dummies (very appropriate) – and I have an app on my phone for pronunciation.
There are so many books in the bookshop, so much knowledge. I think many of the things I want to know are not in books, but many are. How much time can I spend reading? How do I divide my time?
This is stunned Monday, the day after a Biodanza weekend when I know that anything is possible, but somehow I want to do it all today.
I’m in a café. The day started with a meeting with Tom at 6.45am. And on from there. It is now 2.30 in the afternoon. I’m in a café with my new Spanish books, my phone, my Kindle, this notebook. Here I can write, though as I do I think that this might make a good blog. I need to blog. I need to write my novel. I need to care for my vegetables. I need to phone Jonathan and see if I can get Western Red Cedar poles for my new roses to climb. My head spins. At home it spins too fast; in this café it slows enough to let me write. I’m like a snow scene in a bubble. At home sometimes I just keep shaking and I never get to see the beauty. In this café the beautiful scene begins to appear – and some thoughts escape to the page.
The phone rings. It’s Tom. We run a gardening business together. It’s been raining all day and he’s soaked and heading for home. He has an office at home, like me. We’ll talk later. Plan for tomorrow.
I’ll go home. Write a novel, learn Spanish, read the Complete Works of Everything, dance, garden, do estimates. Oh, yikes, I must do estimates. Estimates mean work, work means money, and I still need money.
I’m not breathing. There’s no time to breathe.
Oh, and I’ll watch a film in Spanish and turn off the subtitles. And message Gloria and email Amy again.
Now I’ll sip the green tea I bought. It’s cold, but something has happened. Some magic.
I’ll blog all this. I’ll call it ‘From my notebook – The magical madness of my life.’