This is the third time I have sat down to write this morning’s post. For some reason it is more difficult that usual. Words are hard. They don’t want to pour from my fingertips right now. Instead I have to siphon each and every one and my fingers on the keyboard feel large and awkward.
I am still writing. It has taken me three tries, but I am covering the glaring white page. The progress is slow but each word is another small step forward.
Sometimes writing is like that. Sometimes it flows and sometimes it only trickles. It is still important to show up at the keyboard and pound those words out, even when it is almost painful to do so. If I give up just because it is hard, then I don’t deserve the days when it comes easy.
The muse is lazy. She doesn’t always show up. Sometimes you just have to write without her.
My mind takes odd turns after two a.m. I don’t know why. I don’t know what is special about those predawn hours where the new day hasn’t really taken its first breath yet and the night is still gasping along like a runner in a marathon. Maybe it’s the quiet of a darkened house, knowing that others slumber while I sit here awake.
I’ve read blogs, caught up on things I wasn’t able to do during the daylight hours, and jotted down notes for future projects. Right now I feel as if I am supposed to be writing something. It’s right there on the tip of my brain and my muse is looking at me expectantly waiting for me to notice what she has given me. Yet the epiphany hasn’t come. Maybe it isn’t done forming yet.
There is also a tiny bit of fear that I won’t recognize whatever it is and it will die stillborn and all the promises it could fulfill with it. Thoughts sift so slowly through my mind and I watch them like a slow moving stream. Then before I know it they’re gone, swept away by a gentle current. I am mesmerized or I could catch them as they drift past.
I am probably not making a lot of sense right now, but as I said…my mind takes odd turns sometimes…