My Little House Witch

Just begin.

There will always be something else, some distraction, some thing, some person, some task.  I call this my little house witch……oops, just a second. ….

I just HAD to feed the birds.

 My little house witch is tricky, sneaky, and powerful. She stands in my way, hands on her elusive hips. She sits in the sink and on the counters. The little house witch does not care that I’ve worked all week and am ready to be creative. She appears in laundry baskets and sheets needing washed. She appears in muddy dog prints on the floor and in rotting salad mixes. My little house witch can knock the WiFi offline and steal a power cord, she can misplace books and dump coffee on keyboards.

Hold Please…. I just HAD to start a load of laundry. 

My little house witch can be so annoying because only I know about her, and she exists only in my cerebral cortex. Bodiless. The coinage of my mind.

She lives side by side with my imagination of words and stories ideas, vying for power and distraction.

Oh darn…. she just showed me a text message from my mom and a friend. She even takes the shape of emails and phone calls. She is a selfish little thing flitting in and out of my thoughts, wrapping tightly against my free time. She thinks only of her own needs and desires and she is clever as a pixie; asking for attention, coffee, cookies, or Ajax. 

Sometimes she teams up with my husband or dogs. In those times I simply close my computer, put away my sewing or journal and give in. Resistance is futile. 

I have found that feeding this little witch for a while can help. But today although I have given her a load of laundry before writing and fed the birds and answered text messages, she feels that she is unappreciated. She nudges me on with a whisper. “you haven’t looked a Facebook today” or “those plants look rather dry”.  After feeding her….again. I calmly and firmly tuck her into the folds of my house robe and into the corner of my brain.

Then quickly go, ponder, imagine, think, write, color, sew.

 First thing in the morning is often the best time to write and create when she is still sleeping. My little house witch likes coffee even more than I do and feeds on the spilled coffee grounds and crumbs of toast on the countertops. While she is distracted, I curl up on my favorite chair and begin. Sometimes mid-sentence. Some days evenings are better when we are both a bit tired and I need a creative project to end the day. My little house witch is easier to please then with dinner over and dishes put away. She too is tired from her day of distracting and making messes for me to deal with. I am able to sit and create. Focus abounds. Words and ideas streaming from my fingertips. 

A truce has been made.