A little distracted this morning from my usual routine. I guess work can have that effect on someone. Heh, heh. And now, afternoon, and I�m just getting to my precious journal, my lovely receiver of thought, my blank screen that I can adorn with whatever words I choose. The words that people read, allowing them to think they know me. In a way, they do. They are knowing the most intimate part of me, the part that is NOW, the part that is living presently and presently thinking. All consciousness. It�s amazing how you can capture parts of yourself by �documenting the now�. It keeps me in myself, with myself, as if without it, I�d be lost.

Maybe I wouldn�t be �lost� without my writing. But I wouldn�t be �there�, you know? Being there encompasses so much. Being aware, being observant, noticing, realizing, feeling, touching, all the rest of the senses. Not scarfing down the meal of life, but savoring every bite, as it enters your mouth, as saliva rushes in to do its work, and the textures and tastes become your full experience. Allowing the present moment to engulf you, hold you, caress you, until it becomes you. Because all we ever are is what we are right now, at this moment. And as internal thoughts and external circumstances may change, you are still right there, in that moment, whether you choose to acknowledge that truth or not.

But enough of my philosophies. My mind is whirlwind lately, filled with creative ideas for things I want to do (people I want to do them to), things I want to write, emotions I want to further explore. Someone has asked if they could be my agent. I thought she was kidding, I scoffed at her. She�s not kidding, though. She wants to do research to find out about publishing poems, stories, columns, and represent me. Hmm. I love to write, I would love to write for a living. But my thoughts on the subject have always been, �Why would anyone read what I have to write when there are so many talented writers out there?� I don�t even have a degree or any schooling in that area. So I tend to �write it off� (pardon the pun). I�ve had poems published, but those were contests I entered, nothing spectacular.

Then I think, maybe it�s worth a shot. I�ve been getting very positive feedback from the friends and family that I�ve shared my writing with, they tell me I have talent, despite my proclamations that my work is �just okay�. So, I don�t know. Even writing about it now makes me feel weird, as if I�m publicly evaluating myself (wait a minute, that�s exactly what I�m doing).

I guess I�ll just see how this turns out. I told her to go ahead, so maybe she�ll find some leads that will direct me to my destiny. Who knows. Lately, I�m in a play-it-by-ear sort of mood. Riding the waves of life and allowing them to direct me to whatever shore they�ll have me ride up on. And when I finally land, still in the moment, I will continue to relish it as I do now.

-Barbarella

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