A Writing Journey

I sleep, I eat
I rise, I sit
I walk in the direction of what I need
I respond to my body’s impulses
I stop
I listen, not only to the noise that surrounds me
But also that voice in my head
It speaks louder than anything else
It remembers what I forgot to do yesterday
It reminds me of what I’m anxious about doing tomorrow
It tells me things I don’t want to hear
That my writing is going in circles
And going nowhere
That my time would be better spent
Clearing my messy desk
Or, washing the dishes in the sink
But then, it changes tone and volume
It tells me to bask in the sunlight streaming through my window
To take a deep breath and slow down
To listen to the sounds around me
The gentle murmur of the kitchen fridge
The movements from the neighbours up above
The drilling of construction down below
Pictures flash in my mind like a silent movie
Bringing me back to days passed
Tears well up that I cannot control
Of a memory that I cannot harness
Until I hear a knock at the door
Delivery
I smile at the stranger
I wish them a good day
I tend to my to-do list
What must be done first?
What can wait until tomorrow?
I feel pride for each box checked
My little voice tells me I am good when I am doing
But what about my being?
My soul, my spirit, my sense of self 
Who no one else can see
Do I tend to them like I do my list?
Does that little voice speak their language?
My soul needs connection and quiet
My spirit needs music and movement
My self needs room to grow
To make mistakes
To take the risks
My self needs grace and gratitude
I write, I pause, I remember
I breathe
And I let go of the things
I must do
To allow space for the things
I want to do