It isn’t just another  job.  I can’t treat it like a job.  This writing thing.   We’re meant to develop discipline by ‘showing up for work’ and pounding out a sentence or a paragraph or two thousand words each day, six days a week.  That’s the way it’s done.  That’s how we ‘succeed’.  But I haven’t been able to do that since the week before last when I completed my basic plot outline for Cora, Wander and Rose.  All I’m capable of lately are self-indulgent blog posts and a letter to the editor of my local paper.

And so, right now, this writing thing?  It’s an ache.  You know the one I’m talking about.  You’ve been there.  Part guilt, part failure, and part hope – because there is always hope.  I have all the words in me – I know I do – I just don’t seem capable of getting them down on paper.

The truth is, sometimes our hearts are elsewhere.  My heart is preoccupied by the past – a disappointment that I experienced earlier in the week – and by the future.  In twenty-four hours I’ll be in Soquel for fourteen days of yoga teacher training.  Three days after I return I leave again for a reunion with my mother in Pennsylvania. The past and the future effects so much of how we handle now.  But here’s the thing:  the past already happened – not too much we can do about it.  As for the future?  The last time I checked it was pretty impossible to predict.  So I guess there’s nothing left to do but to let go of yesterday and to stop worrying about tomorrow.  And maybe, just maybe, I’ll discover the joy in embracing the present.  It’s only a matter of time before the pressure is released and the words flow again.  It’s time to stop worrying.

And it’s time to pack.  I’ll be back online in two weeks.

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