It’s a dance, this finding room to write. And time and the quiet contemplation time that is necessary, to continue the thought, is the music.
When time to write is granted to me, I do not always write. If I have chosen not to be impatient and judgmental about how busy and noisy that it has been, or how my day has lead me to a state of exhaustion and I know the heart bottom feeling that my needs do not matter, and how I perhaps have authored this state of affairs I still have to figure out how to write. Because it is when I can’t stand it any longer, and those few minutes of quiet opens up, I still have to shift my mind to being productive in an actual action now sort of way.
And while I might start like a jitterbug on the dance floor while the tune is in ¾ time, I am out there and I’m doing something with my time. It might only be 10 minutes, or it might expand to be a lot more, but it is mine to use. Or lose.
|Stomp Dance - Miami, Oklahoma|
I have to bring forth my ability to be comfortable with the empty screen. I have to set side of all the possible various projects that make my mind frantic; all of the considerations that clutter my mind until I sway with the music. For this is the time thing, mine to use or to lose. And this is the writing thing, finding the rhythm and stepping out onto the floor.