Crawling into bed at the end of my day, our dark bedroom reminds me of a sensory deprivation tank without the water. There is nothing to see, hear or smell. Instead of slumbering like my husband lying beside me, my mind switches to pondering–considering quietly, soberly and deliberately the events of my day. When I was raising children, it was often my first peace and quiet.
I’ve never been one to give an immediate answer to a serious question. I often use the phrase, “Let me sleep on that.” I’d rather take time to consider the various ramifications of a decision. When our growing children asked, “Mom, can we..,” and wanted a quick reply, I usually said no. Later, after giving their request some thought, I could change to yes and everyone was happy. With kids, yes can’t be changed to no unless there’s a dire emergency. I continued the practice with our grandchildren until our granddaughter said, “Grandma, don’t say no, say, ‘I’ll think about it’.”
To me, pondering is a big part of writing. Every morning, I sit at my computer. I have learned to quickly jot something down to make a starting point. My first thoughts on a subject are filled with clichés and inactive verbs, the bane of scribblers. That is where the rewriting begins. When I leave my office to fix lunch, my composition is pushed to the back of my mind for the rest of the day. Sometimes I have a constructive thought while I’m doing dishes, folding clothes or taking a walk.
I quit writing while caring for our daughter, Linda, after she was diagnosed with terminal breast cancer. I probably could have found some time to sit at my computer but, my mind wasn’t free to ruminate.
Do you ponder?