Today I am Writing: On Being Rusty

The end of an academic year always brings the urgent-before-everyone-leaves meetings, the celebration lunches and the end-of-year concerts, projects wrapping up and people re-connecting. My path begins to feel splintered, like I can't keep track of where I'm supposed to be. And it's my writing that suffers.

Last week I tried to read, all the things that I believed would get me back in the swing. But this morning I sit down to write and discover: I am as rusty as an old beat up car, let out to rot.

So, today I am writing: on being rusty.

Here's what happens, when the rust spots appear: I panic, that I am failing at life. I scramble to find something worth saying. I try to put sentences together but they sound false and too uptight. 

I go have lunch in the yard.

I realize two things:

1) If I am not enjoying it, no one else will either. I remind myself to pursue the train of thought that I enjoy, and write about that first.

2) There is a necessary quiet that must occur, a space in which to connect deep and receive myself, if ever I'm going to have anything worth saying. I remind myself to sit in the yard and breathe.

I have gotten out of the habit, and it is habit that keeps the rust away. I resolve: I need to look for the things that wake me up, sit with them before my eyes and ponder. Reflect. Write.

So, look for it: Today I am Writing. A Revival.