My brothers and I have decided to give each other only writing for Christmas, our own that is: stories, jokes, poetry, liner notes, whatever.
So today, I spent about two hours writing a story. The time just sped by. I didn't even notice it passing. in the book The Big Leap by Gay Hendricks, the definition of operating in your zone of genius is time speeding by like that but when I looked at the clock and realized what time and what date it was, I thought, reflexively, "oh, I should out be Christmas shopping!"
And then I realize, I WAS Christmas shopping. I was getting to make my Christmas presents out of my mind.
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