from yesterday, and today, so I'm counting this one twice

I really like writing with pen and paper. Pencil and paper is nice, but I like pen and paper more. Typing is good, but I spend so much time on a computer during the day, that when I pull it out I can't help but open email, and twitter, and Google Reader, and check the OWP Ning. All of that feels like work. Lately, when I sit with pen and a notebook and write on paper, I can almost feel like I'm flying. That’s totally cliché and junior high, but it’s true. I'm becoming a writer; writing something that I want to do on a regular basis. It's something that, when presented with a new scenario or a problem, I want to do to sort out my thoughts.


Yesterday, after school, I went to MSU for an OWP meeting. It was nice to see people, and we really needed to get some work done. It was raining pretty good on my way in to Siceluff, so I didn't bring my computer in. (And I really didn't want to because then I would be more distracted and it would feel more like work). After sitting down at the table and reconnecting with everyone using our talking stick, I started to write, unprovoked. That's something that rarely happens. But now, as I'm writing every day, I'm looking for things to write about, and I'm finding things that I want to write about even when I don't have time.

I began writing about ironing. It's something that I've wanted to write about for some time, but just haven't. Below is not the exact version that I wrote, because I did go through and edit, but I actually told myself, as I was writing, that I would go through and edit. It's cliché filled and lousy, but I hope you enjoy.

Ironing.
It presses out the creases. It gets out the wrinkles.


It’s a great way to start a day. I do it to cleanse my mind. When I “press” my shirts I can feel my tightened mind loosen. I prepare myself for work by making myself “look sharp”—as my father might say. I act to stop the grind while somehow participating in the grind: I must iron my pants and shirts every morning; it is part of the routine. But somehow it is apart from all the rest of it.


Ironing comes after I read and journal and pray. That is a two-part intentional choice. I don’t want to sit down and wrinkle my newly crisp clothes. Sometimes I don’t want to read and journal and pray, but I force myself to do it, even when I’m running late. The intent is to prepare myself for the day—mentally and spiritually. The outcome is usually a desire for more time to sit and be quiet before my Creator. It’s then, in my morning routine, that I rise to iron out the wrinkles from my clothes. It is then that I feel my muscles begin to relax, and my mind grow at ease with the plans for the day. Yes, there is much to do, but with the right combination, anything is possible.


When I walk out of my study, where I iron, I walk out a neatly dressed, new man. I walk out armed to take on the day. There’s a mental shift that takes place, a loosening of the anxious bonds that rush me from shower to shave to shake to vitamins to _______________.


I don’t know why or how or when it happened, but I love ironing in the morning.