Sunday, February 15, 2009. 3:48pm  I have just finished the March issue of Horizons Magazine and sent it off to the printer.  I goofed up my timing this month and had to work the last two Sundays to catch up.  Typically I always have Sundays to myself and I like to alternate between the Yoga Shakti Mission, Unity Church of Melbourne and The New Way.  Not only do I enjoy the lessons and the music, but many of my friends attend each as well.  It’s my chance to see and say hi in person at least once a week.  I miss them when I have to work on a Sunday.

And I’m not complaining, I’m happy when I’m working, even when I am on deadline and stressed.  I’ve got the coolest job of anyone I know.  I work so much because I always have new projects in various stages.  They keep me interested, so I don’t mind working so much.  I thought earlier this week how pathetic that if it wasn’t for email and Facebook, I wouldn’t have a clue what some friends are doing each day.  But then I remember that I stay connected with whomever I am vbrationally in resonance with, no matter whether we see each other in person or ever get to talk on the phone or not.

WHAT A RELIEF FINISHING THE MARCH MAGAZINE
It’s always a relief once I send the magazine to the printer after final layout.  From the 5th to the 15th I am at the computer and phone for 12 to 14 hour days.  If I’m smart, I stay focused and the last few days are easy, just proofreading and tweaking design changes.  If I’ve let myself be lazy, the final few days can be pretty rushed and a little stressed with me barely making it in under the wire.  Like the March issue I just finished.

But I also know that if I don’t give myself permission to goof off in the final days, then I have no way of blowing off steam and releasing resistance. And when it is pent up, I cannot be creative.

It’s like the story of the Chinese lettuce farmer who was known far and wide as a writer of exquisite poetry and the grower of poor, bitter lettuce.  “Why don’t you stop farming lettuce and spend all your time writing poetry?” he is asked time and again. “Because, ” the farmer says, “If I do not grow poor lettuce, then I cannot write beautiful poetry.”

I can dig it.