Technology, back off.

Today, I got really really lucky. Today I got to feel weightless and perfectly peaceful. No drugs, no yoga, no meditation, just hard, long work. Today was the time for packing and cleaning, getting ready to finally leave for the summer, working from early morning to late afternoon. People usually hate those days. But today I was truly into it. Don't know why, don't know how, but I was. How do I know that? Caught myself running around with my stomach making noises of a mating whale. And this, one must admit, doesn't happen very often, especially now, when the weather is so nice and warm and your whole existence is constantly searching for an excuse from work (by the way, if it doesn't find one, there's always a backup plan- 'I'm hungry', even if it's not really so). So then I make soup, putting in the pot whatever I can find in the fridge and stand by the stove, impatient, smelling the food. Time slows down to almost zero speed. When I pour the contents of the pot in the bowl, I realize it is a little bit under-cooked, but...whales in my stomach won't shut up, I really need to eat.
But then I go to my emptied room and sit on the floor. The windows are open and I can hear the birds. My computer is turned off, and, I guess, this completes the feeling. I end up sitting there, slightly smiling, thinking nothing, being a part of the nature, of the house, a part of the room, all of us just being one. The soup cools down.

And that's how my summer began

Summer.. In our heads, it's all about long nights at the fireplace, swimming in the sea or lake, comforting sound of crickets every night, and lots and lots of sun. For me, it's the same. But today..it's just different. The first day of summer '13 feels completely different than usual. So here I am, sitting in my room, enjoying relaxing music, eager to make art. Contrary from what we all expect, there is no sun. The rain drops are knocking at my window, creating that incredible feeling of harmony and peace. It's pouring outside. Just an hour ago, I heard shy, lazy murmurs of thunder. It's the first time I got to hear them this year. It's the first time the first day of summer looks too cloudy to see the sun, smells like rain and speaks to me in quiet peals of thunder. Weird, you say, but, surprisingly, more enjoyable than ever.

Creativity takes over

So this is a story which I wrote at about 5a.m. tonight for one of my courses.

Elijah, a five year-old, was sitting at the kitchen table, staring at the endless hills outside, which contained all possible shades of green, roughly interrupted by some red, white or pink bits of blossoming wild flowers. He was alone in the house. Alone, but not lonely. He was used to this feeling, waiting for his dad to come home from the corn fields. It’s been like this for a long while, that actually lasted more than he could remember. However, when he was way too little to be left alone, his aunt Cora would stay with him throughout the day, talking to him, sometimes calming him down so that he would stop crying. He was such a cry-child! He took her as a family member. But as he grew old enough to stay alone in the house for the whole day and do some cleaning, she became a guest, a visitor. She would come once a week, every Thursday. More and more often, talking to her felt completely different, strange, even awkward.

He saw Caleb walking across the tall grass towards the house, a chocolate-brown figure, surrounded by the greenness of the sun-lighted hills. He finished the day’s job and until the next day he was free. Elijah watched him, relaxed, getting closer and closer to the house, waving to him. The little boy waved back. He felt sympathetic to Celeb, although the old man did not seem to mind the obligatory work in the fields. Elijah might have to go and work there one day, too. Just like his grandfather did, just as his dad does. But he might as well not. Caleb told him that things were getting better, everything was changing. However, seeing his dad so lively and happy every time he was coming back from the fields, he felt like this kind of work was all he needed for a good life. It seemed to Elijah that it was enough to feel useful, enough to be treated fairly, to eventually gain respect from the whites, which, Caleb used to tell him, was an important goal to achieve. The door opened and he heard a cheerful and lively voice, calling his name. Impatient and excited, he waited for Caleb to take of his shoes, then jumped off the chair and ran to greet him.

  What, from your point of view, was the main idea of this story?