Journaling - Three Images of Laundry

My right hand has been acting up, so this I write down in my paper journal first. It does this from time to time, especially when I click and move the computer mouse around and type at speeds to keep up with the words to push out of my mind. It doesn't help holding and scrolling my iPod Touch for long periods, holding my hand up, and the repetitive motions.  Last night it felt swollen and my fingers felt crunched up. Holding the pen gives my hand some flexibility; I'll have to try exercises to strengthen my hand and fingers and forearm. I'm also using my left hand for the mouse and typing to give my right hand a break. After I write this down, I will use Dragon NaturallySpeaking to get this onto the screen. I used it a few times and this is the reason I bought it. At times like this when the need to write and share find a way, but I know if I don't rest my hand and arm, it will only get worse.

I have three small bits that I wrote in my journals on three different laundry days. The first one is a poem that took me by surprise. There were sad thoughts and tears from nowhere—somewhere—as I drove to laundry that day. When I arrived at the Laundromat, after stuffing the washing machines, I plopped down on the chair, wiped my tears and the poem I share came out.

The next two laundry days occurred at a different Laundromat than the first and they were a little closer together in time. The second one I typed directly into the Apple App called Wonderful Days. The third one I penned into my miniature note book and dictated it onto this page here.

Another one comes to mind that I wrote at yet another Laundromat one or two years ago, but I don't know which journal that ended up in.

**

Journaling - Three Images of Laundry

July 1, 2011

Today it rained inside

my heart.

Driving, the familiar

Roads suddenly made me

feel lost. The familiar

becoming unfamiliar.

The dark clouds have moved

upon me. I've ignored

them, but they won't

let go of me.

I tell myself that it

will pass and I know

it will; and I suppose

the rain will always be

there raining on my

heart. A heart in a

glass box tucked away,

the rain trying to force

itself out—trapped, yet free. Is it possible

to be both trapped

and free?—a sort of Ying and Yang; life and death;

happiness and sadness.

The heart never lies.

**

August 12, 2011

Laundry morning. Not bad. Late start. First stop 7-11 to get $1 from super lotto. Second stop longs, I mean CVS. Returned one item bought soap and fabric softeners. Third stop bank to get two rolls of quarters. Not too crowded, loaded up, headed to Jack in the Box for breakfast, then to the thrift store to look. Found a few skirts and a dress. Tried them on and left with one cute light green skirt and a cute Old Navy dress in tans and browns. Came back to laundry, much busier. Loaded dryers up then sat down and looked at Interior Castle and read a few poems. I really like Carl Sandburg’s poems—at least I like the two that were included. 9 5 7. That's how long on each of the three dryers. The clouds are whispy today, just the way I like them. They look like dancing fluted flowers. It makes me feel calm inside when I see whispy clouds. Spinning, spinning, the clothes are spinning colors and whites. I'm glad they are spinning and not my thoughts. Peace and love to all.

**

August 20, 2011

Laundry.

A man, possibly without a permanent home. Clothes circling. All the colors of the rainbow heated, tossed and balancing. Radio playing songs. People still piling in with laundry. But the man. He stands out and I feel a lump in my throat. I sense him in the corner of the long line of dryers—waiting, thinking. He finally decides to walk by, slowly. I look up briefly, a quiet hello with my eyes. His aura—I can't see it (I can't actually see auras but that's the first word that came to my mind), but his being seems warm yet frazzled and has the scent of alcohol. His steps match his pace, that careful gait that comes with the territory—the one where one has had so much that they are numb and calculated and feel good with bittersweet feelings. Laundry day has its constants, but then it also has other changes. Today, this man's shadow casts over the colorful clothes and leaves my heart stuck in my throat. And this little itty bitty gnat keeps buzzing around me. This particular laundry day makes me feel grateful and also makes me feel compassion. Peace to you dear man.

**

Afterthought. I'm thankful for Dragon NaturallySpeaking. I forgot how much patience it can take. It definitely has a way of slowing things down and that's a good thing in this super fast world. I had to be more careful than usual reading over this to catch words that the program heard different than what I said.

Happy journaling & happy day!