I must apologize to anyone who has an intense fear of spiders, but I feel led to confess that I have a brain full of cobwebs. They are at their thickest in the morning, and it seems as the sun warms the dew from real spiderwebs, making them less apparent, it also helps to fade my mental cobwebs, making it a little easier to function. I don’t always want to wait for the sun, though, and sometimes I can’t.
Winter is creeping closer and as much as I love to watch everything change with each season, including the way the light seems to move through my house on a different path with each season, my mental cobwebs have a smaller window of time to be cleared by the sun. And that doesn’t include the number of heavy grey days ahead. Snow and rain work, too, to wake up my brain, but they seem to speak to my right side a little louder, and as much as I would love to spend my days wallowing and rolling in my active imagination (it’s crazy fun in there) I do have to function as a well-intentioned human for a majority of my day.
I requested last night that our family have a screen-free day today. I’m looking forward to it, but I hadn’t posted yet this week, and my commitment to post once a week is still strong enough that I must pay attention to it. With great effort I pulled myself out of bed early this morning so I could finish a post before our son wakes up. The day doesn’t really begin until the kids are up, right?
Cobwebs are most visible in the morning, and my brain isn’t any different. I stared at my computer, I doodled on a piece of paper. I read over some poems I have, which I would love to share someday, but today didn’t feel like the day. I gulped a cup of coffee, and tried my best to ignore the sounds of my husband playing with my daughter. I put on some music.
Ah, the power of the right tune at the right time. The cobwebs started to clear. I am very picky about my mornings. I can be a beast from another dimension if things are not right. I need a few moments to myself, time to pray, time to stretch out the cerebral knots my brain has danced itself into as it dragged me through dreamland the night before.
Music with lyrics often serves as an abrasive distraction in the morning and when I am trying to work. But this morning I put on an album by a French artist named Zaz that I fell in love with a couple of years ago. I do not speak French, so her voice moves in the music like another instrument, and the music itself is the right amount of upbeat to clear some of those cobwebs away without leading me to want to squash flat any living creature that dare come near me. (I’m saying a beast. From another dimension. I am not fooling around.)
Isn’t it interesting how unique the human mind is, one from another? And even at different times, my own mind has it’s own varying needs that must be met in order to function. Stephen King talks of the dark metal music he blares when he writes, and that music would send me into catatonia before it would spur on a creative uprising.
I will leave you with a link to Zaz, but I’m curious, what helps you with your mental cobwebs? What music? What rituals? Share with me! I am always willing to try something new.