Morning Pages

By Alison April 17, 2015 6 Comments 2 Min Read

Welcome once again to my morning pages: the occasional, unedited spilling of my morning mind on to the screen. Approximately seven hundred and fifty words of stream of consciousness, transparent writing inspired by Julia Cameron. So you can dig a little deeper in my head.
I have reached new heights of laziness. Last night I lay tangled in my duvet and truly wished I could turn the virtual pages of my kindle by merely blinking. Hell yeah: I couldn’t face the goosefleshy palava of pulling my arm out of the snuggly warmth to swipe the page.
In the next room Finley was singing quietly. Lately, unable to sleep himself, he has become my midnight chorus: his little voice tinkling away, occasionally making himself giggle and occasionally making me want to run in to his room and stab him in the head. That isn’t the kind of thing good Mothers think is it? Would a good mother run and get her her guitar to provide musical accompaniment to his warbling? Would a good Mother be there with warm milk to soothe his voice when he finally stops for breath? Or would a really good Mother wander, in her voluminous, not very sexy at all, fleecy robe, into his room and gag him so that they could both be assured of a decent nights rest and the morning would not be threatened by the trauma of trying to force a pre-teen little monkey out of his bed and in to school?
Life is abundant with dilemmas. Most of me says that if he needs to let out a note or two then who am I to stifle him? But recently I have come to understand that my way of thinking isn’t quite the same as other peoples: where they see black or white, I see a rainbow of reasons, excuses and possibilities. But having a rainbow head doesn’t necessarily serve a person and well and perhaps life is easier if you can think in terms of what’s right and what’s wrong and leave the matter at that. Thus forcing upon me, the notion that a child singing all by himself in the small hours, probably isn’t the done thing.
Darn it. If I can’t swipe the page of my kindle because my arm gets cold, how in the name of heaven am I going to throw my whole naked self out of bed, to grab a robe and go do middle of the night battle with a child quietly amusing himself with a song?
If only my mind wasn’t so fully occupied by recipes for ginger cake and how to amuse myself on a Friday when I cannot go shopping with my Mum. If only I didn’t spend many an hour with my head buried in a books, or staring at my mobile or drawing squiggles on the margins of the magazines I flick through when I am talking on the phone. If only I wasn’t so eager to fill my head with bundles of trivia merely in order to keep on surviving!
People are broken aren’t they? Each in their own individual way.  
Today I am shopping for daffodils and new knickers and a mop head. I am eating roast chicken and lighting candles and herding domestic animals around the house and squeaking because once again I have said too much and lost my voice in shock.
It is Friday. I don’t know what to do with myself on Fridays. Oh how I miss her. 


  1. Katherine says:

    (((Hugs))) Alison♡

  2. Margaret says:

    Alison, you’re not just a good mother you are a brilliant one. As much as I love my husband of 43 years when he stops me sleeping because of his snoring I could smother him!!! We all need our sleep. I still miss my mum and taking her shopping on a Friday so I know what you are going through. Big hugs to you and remember to be kind to yourself.

  3. Amanda says:

    Oh Alison. All of those feelings and thoughts you are having are recognized by all women everywhere. You are not alone in them. Finley will soon pass this stage, if he is keeping his “concert” at a quiet level I think I would leave it be. It is, apparently, his way of coping. He’s self-soothing, actually not a bad thing at all.
    I hope you never completely get over missing shopping with your Mum on Fridays, I know it will become less painful but a girl always needs her Mum. It seems you are coping as well as can be. Putter your way though each day and somewhere along the way you will smile with your whole heart and know that you’re ok. Praying for you and Finley.

  4. Amanda says:

    I forgot to mention…my arms get cold, too!

  5. martha says:

    Oh Allison,
    You have helped me understand myself and some of my loved ones. We have rainbow brains.
    That is such a splendid word picture, and explains so very much.
    I am so very sorry for your loss. I truly am.

  6. Gena says:

    I am sorry,I can’t find the words,I feel speechless with grief for you,as always I send love xxxx

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