I find myself, at 1am, writing with bleary eyes.
My contacts have dried out but I still won’t take them out to soak for the night.
Adonis sleeps in our new home on the couch, falling into a quiet dream during the Colbert report. It’s the first time we’ve had cable and he’s drinking it in, late night.
I’ve betrayed my writing, keeping it and not letting it out. And now that I am trying to get it moving again, I feel rusty. Cranky. Like a door on a 70s Buick with no WD 40 in sight.
My office is in boxes. My home barely unfolding. The toilet seat cover broken.
It’s 1am and my feet are dirty from wearing flip flops around the city. Urban living, I must get used to it.
The older I get, the more I realize life’s power – it’s whims and its intents. Never would I have guessed I’d be back in Boston, neotiating jobs and salaries, and driving down Beacon Street again. But here I am, drunk with nocturnal fatigue, wondering and wandering in mental etceteras and run-ons.
How did I get here?
I came here to pursue my writing. I came here to build.
It’s much harder to believe in yourself when there are no voices distracting you and the only obstacle is the stability of your commitment.
A few months ago I thought it was hard to admit that I was afraid to be a writer, and what that would entail. Now, it is much harder to stop admitting it. I am afraid. I am afraid. I am afraid. Paralysis.
Over the past few years, my ceiling and I have had hundreds of stare-downs at night, unable to rest. No blinking, no answers, just silence.
Today someone told me a quote that slightly helped me move past my paralysis, “Tell me what you will do your one, wild, precious life.” I think the poet’s name was Mary Oliver.
One, wild, precious life.
You, I, we…we only get one. One life.
Paralysis is wastefulness.
If I could recommend one book to read by the end of 2007, it would be The Alchemist. A simple, few hours duration of reading, powerful book. A graceful story about a boy, destiny, and fear.
If you are a searcher, read this book. If you are wanting to give up everything for a dream, read this book. If you don’t know what you want, read this book. If you believe, read this book.
I re-entered the world, after finishing it, believing again in myself, my ability to control my fear, signs, the Universe, power, and the gift of Choice.
If you are anything like me, trying to win a battle against fear, hold fast this book.
You don’t seem stuck to me – writing-wise. Your post is elegantly expressed as always. It may sound silly, but your blog is proof to me that you can & should be a writer.
Very thoughtful posts on gendering, by the way. I have always been leery of going to Vegas for the reasons you mention. My blood would boil incessantly.