Good morning, Asilomar

There is a crisp bright feel about the morning here in Pacific Grove, California where I am writing with the Marlin Free Writers.  Our ten-minute free write is a ritual that starts each session.

We lean into the journal write; one with a journal on her knee, others writing in journals on the table’s edge.  A sigh here and there.  Pens moving, moving.  Two keyboards clicking, clicking.  One writer on the floor with a laptop.  Coffee cups, water bottles and a soft light spilling into our little windowed conference room.

I hear a wood dove intermittently and I turned off the projector just now to cut the hum.  The morning is soo peaceful, clear and clean.

I have that kid-in-Kansas desire to be out of doors.  With long practice from my elementary days, I simply gaze out the window, noting the play of light on the trunk of an immense old pine.  It is up the road holding court from a stone wall embankment.  It’s branches spread out to one side and sweep down to the dry ground, which is carpeted with needles.

I can hear voices from other cabins.  But right now, I cannot hear the surf.  It is probably calm right now as the air is still.

The space here is lovely, but what is most elegant is teachers — coaches, leaders — all very busy people, are taking the time to put their thoughts into writing.  Free writing is the best exercise.  And giving teachers time and space to do that exercise has been the main point.

Letting ourselves think on paper can be a discovery.  Getting the writing muscles moving is as invigorating as those walks and runs we enjoyed yesterday afternoon down the long stretch of white sand backed by blue surf.

The timer chimes rang and I thought, “Awww…”  I felt like I was just getting into gear.

Good morning, Asilomar.

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