It seemed easier to stop by the tea house to write. I dropped them off near the office and drove into town. I walked around the shop and tried to figure out how to order. The walls were covered in purple and gold with burgundy rugs tacked up against the corner table where I had to step up to sit down. Shoes were optional. I sat on small cushion, suitable for meditation, and put my computer on a foot high octagonal table. It was the last one left close to the window. I had the sense I was doing it all wrong. I came in ready to write with a caffeine kick and instead was lulled to sleep by the afternoon light, crooning vocals, and catatonic vibe. She returned with chai in a ceramic mug on a silver platter, which I sipped hot in the hopes of staying awake for another hour.
I’m giving this yearlong project a spin. Undoubtedly, I will fall and pick up again. Knowing this makes it easier. Still, I plan to show up to record a short photo and story of my day. You’re welcome to join me. I’d love it really. We can give each other high fives and geek out with a hashtag (#ayearofus), not because everyone is doing it, but because we’re doing it, together. Showing up every damn day to make this creative habit real.