pure in thought

i was really contemplative on the flight home from LA this afternoon. i sat at the boarding gate for an hour, not wanting to read, because my mind kept filling up with ideas. i wanted to write, but i had left my notepad at my brother’s house, and the newsstand didn’t sell blank paper. i did not feel like pulling the laptop out of my bag. i considered buying the sunday paper and filling the margins of the pages with my writing. i didn’t, and this pushed the muses, or whomever is responsible for flooding a brain with thoughts, to redouble their efforts.
it’s better to not write everything down. i often treat thoughts like an archivist, scribbling down all the individual ideas as they come up, tossing a trail of crumbs on the path in order to eventually find my way back. today, for a few hours, i kept my fingers silent and just allowed the mind to do what it wanted.