It’s probably OK to just sit. But I’ve never been good at it. Like now, a cool, sunny Sunday morning. Calm lake, a goldfinch at the feeder talking to another one in the cedar tree. And Chickadees. And the dog on the porch in the warm light, trying to rest, but sniffing and sniffing. A fly buzzes past, just misses a spider’s web. And as right as everything is – outside, coffee in hand, toasty under a blanket while the temperature creeps from 48° to 49° – I always have the urge to be up and at it, whatever that is. The blackbird tells me to stay put. There’s no reason to do anything but breathe and listen. But there’s so much to do. Some people sit and just look at it without thinking. But for me, the thoughts never stop. The only time I feel at ease is when I am in motion, even if it’s just my fingers wrestling with an ink pen or pounding these keys. ~ KJ