I'm having simultaneous periods of peace and productivity with writing. It is most certainly an odd mix, but one that I am grateful to experience fairly often. Of course, I am attempting to improve the process and maximize my output whenever possible.
Interruptions are a given, but despite knowing this, I always find I grumble inwardly at whoever or whatever sends my word-frenzied tangent careening off course. I mean, doesn't work or the Universe realize all that potential gold will be lost forever if I can't get it typed out while I'm thinking it? Sheesh! It's not like I can just take screen capture my thoughts and come back to them later.
Despite not being able to remember those many little gems that flit out of my consciousness when I'm pulled away from my laptop, I appreciate all that I am able to tranfer to the screen and preserve. Whether it is something that will amount to a greater collection of thoughts or simply a solitary strand of my present place in life, if I've managed to jot it down in some way, I've made progress.
There's little point in obsessing over the words that escape capture. Each day presents the opportunity to create something else, something different. For all that might have been lost, so much waits to take it's rightful place on a page. If I were to focus on what no longer is, than I'd never be able to see what is yet to be. I'll take these creative boons and revel in what I'm able to draw from them over an unproductive day, anytime.
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