– J W Eagan
When I woke this morning, my pajamas were soaking in sweat. My heart was pounding. The scariest part was realising that I was sitting up. Titch ran from her cushion on the floor in the hallway and curled herself up on my lap. As I stroked her soft black fur, my breathing became more regular and I calmed down. I’d had a nightmare.
For weeks now I’ve been having vivid dreams. Sometimes they’re about work, at other times they’re commonplace visions of my day to day life.
Sometimes, when I dream about something pleasant, I wake up and get angry that it’s over. On Monday I had been having a particularly good dream and when I woke, it was 5 minutes ahead of the alarm, time to get ready for work. I kicked off my covers and tried to replay the dream in my head, hoping that if I hit rewind over and over again, it might come back to me. Throughout the day, I thought about my dreams and it cheered me up when things were looking a bit rough. The issues with clients, the back to back meetings, the mountain of email, all just became things to be done while I re-told myself the story that had formed in my head. The vague images became more vivid in my imagination and I looked forward to pulling on my blue flannel jammies and hitting the hay that night.
Try this – keep a notepad by the bed and write down your dreams and nightmares, no matter how random. You never know what might come out.
Writing Prompt: Dreams and Nightmares
How often do we do things we think are brave or adventurous and others think are just plain stupid? For instance, some might look at the old argument of climbing a mountain because its there as ill justification for putting oneself in harm’s way. Others like the view of the world from up top…
I ran a 1/2 marathon on Sunday with no training just because I promised I would and I wanted to tick a box in my “I need to do that before I snuff it” box. Admirable for going through with it, or just pain stupid? You decide. Me, I’m on the sofa with an ice pack on my knee, a glass of red wine and a hot bath running in the background trying to figure it out…
So, think about some of the things we put ourselves through and write about them from a few points of view. Clever, brave, or just plain stupid?
Writing Prompt: Brave or Stupid?
There are some things that happen to us again and again and it’s annoying every time. It’s different for everyone. I’m constantly tripping over my own feet. I lose my house keys on a weekly basis. I’ve slipped on the stairs of my house about 6 times. In short, I’m clumsy and forgetful.
Oh yeah, I also get a cold about once every other month and never take a sick day. Pathetic. So, at the moment, I’m sniffling, curled up on the sofa, drinking tea and still working.
Do you have a re-occurring theme in your life?
Writing Prompt: Not again…
I’ve been running around like a headless chicken since I got back from Spain. I’ve had meetings, guests, parties, flights to London, no sleep and loads to do at home. The upshot is that I now have a throat that has swollen to the size of a grapefruit and my cheeks are on fire. What annoys me is that I have a load to do at the office and I have a perfect “no sick day” record. I had plans to clear out my wardrobe for the charity shop, was going to go for a run, clean out the fridge, do laundry, read the rest of my book and work on the next chapter of my book. Now, it would appear that all I have the energy to do is play online poker, watch old movies in my pajamas and sip on lemon and honey whist shivering under a quilt…Boo!
Everyone has a ritual when they’re feeling ill. What do you do? Write a short piece about illness. Here are some ideas:
1. The Big Meeting
2. The Field Trip
3. Fevered Dreams
The act of writing is an act of optimism. You would not take the trouble to do it if you felt it didn’t matter.
– Edward Albee
I looked around the room and saw nothing but friends. As the waitress topped up my glass with Sauvignon Blanc, I saw people who had traveled from the US, London, North Berwick and Glasgow among other places to help celebrate my birthday. I got a lot of cards. Most of them had kittens on them. I didn’t realise I was so transparent in my affection for them. Something about kittens makes me smile.
There was a mix of people there that I had known at various stages in my life. The nice thing was, that over the years, although they came from different places and different walks of life, everyone got on. It made me happy to wander from one end of the table to another and see my friends chatting away together. I felt safe and I felt loved. People made the effort.
I know a lot of people compartmentalise their lives by keeping groups of friends separate. It’s interesting when you consider that most people show a different face to people they know from work, or school, university, the gym, or any other place. Last night it didn’t matter to me how these people had come into my life, it just mattered that they’d got there.
I’ll leave you with this, how differently do you behave in the various snapshots of your life? What is it that makes you suddenly let someone into your own, weird little world? With some people, it took a few weeks, others a year or two and others still, one night of good conversation was enough.
Writing Prompt: Safety in numbers
Sleeplessness is a desert without vegetation or inhabitants. ~Jessamyn West