No Resistance

After years of raising kids and having trouble having a personal, uninterrupted thought, I find my resistance to writing, to facing a blank page, relatively nil. I have years of thoughts unthought, decades of works unwritten, books of pen-not-put-to-paper.

I want to write.

And then I notice the other side. Those hours in the day I’m not writing.

Writing three pieces in five days that might have only taken an hour’s worth of time in total, suddenly seems paltry. Yet I know myself. And I know I need breathing room in and around my writing life. I need to hang out clothes, see clients, check in with my kids, make a nutritious dinner after perusing my garden for its yield or food shop when it’s winter. I also need the inspiration of long hikes on Sunday mornings with a friend or the solitary walks at dusk through my neighborhood. I find that alone-time needs to be balanced with my people-time or I slip near an edge I can easily step off. And then I’m too alone and I have nothing to say.

So, resistance could be seen as making time for a fuller life than just sitting and writing by the clock, hour after hour. For I know the blank page will beckon me and will once more become my sanctuary.

Jyoti