Labyrinth

Am writing - in a sort of collaboration, with a sort of deadline.
Both unusual for me.
And it's proving to be an octopus or jellyfish of a thing.
Voracious.

I'm trying to remember that it is actually writing itself.
That it WILL get done in its own good time.
I try to get into the garden for an hour's pottering each day.
More like half an hour today.

Then this arrived from Nora.  A tonic of truth.
And as I type here, now more Andrea Gibson pinged into my inbox.
More life doing itself, letting go into receiving, enough output for one day.