As a result, I've been playing a game of hide and seek in my head with the words to put on it. Sitting on a sofa in the evening while I'm thinking about something else, I see those words drifting casually by in the background, round, full and perfectly formed without a care in the world. I watch them with one eye, pretending not to have noticed - but the minute I make a lunge for the keyboard to fix them in black and white, they evaporate like mist, elusive and giggling, or allow me to catch up with them, only to act like idiots on the page.
It's not easy. But unusually for me, I don't mind. I'm curious about what might be and immediate gratification isn't what I'm looking for. I think they want me to play - and I'm enjoying the game.
But the trouble is, I haven't got the time. I'm a grown-up. I don't have the hourly real-estate to indulge a bunch of vowels and consonants in their childish antics.
Taking the mature and spiritual approach to building a heart-centred business, I have been meditating. It's the place for inspiration. A place for creativity. Certainly it feels like a safe place to be, like coming home. It calms me and allows me to 'do' without thinking myself into deep, dark holes. But, as yet, it's not been a place to find my homepage copy.
And there's a thought I keep having… What would it be like to be just a little bit more childlike? Could I…play? Be just a little bit silly? Take things less seriously? Enjoy the ride? Just let go?
Images of free-falling pop up almost immediately. But funnily enough, not scary ones. Because I am safe. And that big, blue sky gives me a lot of space. And air to breathe. A rush of oxygen to the lungs that makes my eyes shine and a smile spring up on my face.
I don't think I've played before. Not with any kind of whole body commitment to the idea. And I wonder what that might be like - and whether the right words would be more likely to come to me if I was to behave a little bit more like they do. Could I become a magnet for those sticky turns of phrase?
A scratchy voice tells me: This is business. You can't muck around. Why should you be the one playing a sunny game of hide and seek in the garden?
But I'm not sure I'm really listening.