But I Digress

Digress: To deviate. Go off on a tangent. Get off the subject. Get sidetracked. Stray. Wander. 

That’s me.

Last week I caught myself apologizing for repeated digressions in a vivid conversation with some fascinating friends. Mid-sentence I stopped myself, realizing how ridiculous it is to apologize for an impulse that radiates from my heart and soul.

I am not linear. I do not wish to be linear. I don’t think life is meant to be lived in a straight line. Sure I have things I’m “supposed” to be doing, but the bulk of them are suggestions, really, which can be rearranged at will. Mainly I make the s&%t up as I go along.

So yesterday, instead of working on the installation of my trim and siding, I lifted a chunk of sad-looking grass, rearranged some plants and built this deck instead.

I promptly invited my yoga lovelies, Tricya and Susan, to christen the new space and to drop by and practice anytime the spirit moves them. For me, I’m thinking two adirondack chairs, a pot of tea and less grass to mow, although the actual sitting part is kind of a joke. Here’s the hammock, same spot, used as a dryer for cedar shingles. That’s the most action it saw all year.

I am grateful for stacks of reclaimed wood, the excuse to build anything, books that can’t be ignored, interesting school projects left ’til the last minute, friends who pop in, spontaneous adventures proposed, and conversation that leaps tangentially at will.

I’m not sorry whatsoever for this perpetual lack of focus.