PROMPT: Describe the room in which you are sitting in terms of what it’s doing to you. How is it affecting your senses, emotions, energy? How is it changing you? 6 minutes.
The water is running in the shower. I can hear its lack of force, its dripping, its running. The fan is going in the window. It’s cooling us down. Outside are noises of a plane flying in the distance, and quiet, which is unusual. The traffic is light tonight.
The air in the room is cooling. The draft from the open door cools my legs.
The shower just squeaked off, and now I can hear traffic outside better. It sounds like a freeway in the distance (which it is). There aren’t any other noises. The quiet is a peaceful one after a storm ends.
The crowding of the books on the couch needs addressing. I feel cramped here, not able to stretch out my legs. The mess of papers on top of papers is disturbing to my eyes and mind. I feel as though there are tasks that need to be finished, and I can never rest until all tasks are resolved. Perhaps feng shui wouldn’t even work if people didn’t keep their houses picked up and left unfinished tasks lying around like I do.
The fan is lulling. My husband makes kissing faces at me and the sleeping cat mews lethargically. Suddenly my husband’s vocal presence interrupts the quiet. I love him so much. I love the way his face smiles and his eyes light up. But the noise is jarring. It makes me laugh to write. After 11:00, I need noise to be kept to a minimum. We call it my noise threshold.
Word puzzles beckon to me from the cluttered up couch. But the pull to clean, after becoming aware of it, is stronger.