I'm sitting on the bleachers of a little league baseball field where I imagine that, in season, the kids play on the field while the parents look on from them. The sound of children laughing and parents cheering must have filled this air many times.
But right now all I can hear is the faint sound of nearby construction equipment, the patter of squirrels going up these trees with the changing leaves and the rush of traffic behind me.
It's my first day of work and, as normal, I am super early. About an hour early to be exact. I don't mind the extra time is it gives me a few minutes to collect my thoughts and write them out a bit. Some people hate extra time and uncomfortable silences but I welcome them because if you think about it, it is with in those moments that the memorable things happen.
And those small moments are what make life worth living because without them, routine would take over and that's when life becomes stagnant.
Stagnation is the death of creativity.
The death of creativity would surely mean, the death of me.
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