I Wanted to Write Today...

I wanted to write to you today. I wanted to write a blog, or an essay, or a how-to, or a how-to-not-do. I wanted to write today, but had nothing to write about and too much all at once.

I thought about writing about summer and how it felt like it was moving confusingly fast. I wondered if I thought the same thing last July and the one before, or if this was a new speed. That had me thinking about how months move quickly, full of endless days and the slow tick-tock of minutes being watched and monitored.

I went outside. I felt grateful and too hot. I walked under a tree and felt a sweet drop in temperature, looked up, looked left, looked right, and saw only woods and nature contentedness.

I walked on, and the quiet started to feel too quiet, so I played a song, and another, and another, forwarding and repeating, going back and forward, trying to find the right one while wondering what right I was looking for.

I wanted to write today, but had too many ideas, yet no ideas at all.

I especially like the opening and closing—they create a nice circular structure and feel very true to the reflective, stream-of-consciousness style.