This daily writing process includes filling a container with 137 objects - I chose spools of thread - selecting one each day and at the end of the day moving the object to another container. It is a symbolic "letting go" of the day - the good, the bad and the ugly - oh, and the joyous!!
I love this process and the ingenious leader - Patti Digh - but am never good at keeping up.
I started very late in the game this year and toddled along loving my spools, writing ditties and enjoying it at day's end.
About two weeks ago I chose a spool and just carried it around with me day to day not letting go at all. It is a unique spool - old - really old - maybe a hundred years old or so. It is a rich brown spool of real wood, tall and slender - it would not fit on any of my modern machines - not even my Grandmother Maude's I don't think. Around it is wrapped a regal purple thread. It feels like the color of Advent. The luster of the spool complementing the radiance of the thread.
A week passed, then two, and it occurred to me that I was hanging on to it. I didn't want to "let go" of this particular spool of thread. This spool with this thread had captured me in a way I could not explain. The thought popped into my head that I was arrested by it and there fore arrested in my writing process, in moving on. I looked up "arrest"
Definition of "arrest"
1 seize; capture
2 a :to bring to a stop b :check, slow c :to make inactive
3 to catch suddenly and engagingly to arrest attention
Sure enough, this simple little household item had seized my affection. It was slowing me down and holding me captive. I don't know why. I just know it is so. I find it engaging, delightful. It holds my attention. I am rather enjoying it.
I will let you know when I am ready to move on.
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