Truth: I’ve been avoiding you. I’m sorry, it’s nothing personal, it just is what it is: I’ve been in a Winter Slump.
It’s been colder than the atmosphere on Mars down here (I think the aliens have it better off currently, oxygen or no oxygen) and trudging through the snow to fill up bags with eight frozen water bottles to carry back to the house to thaw and lug back to the rabbit shed can be trying.
The rabbits are starting to get sick of winter, too. We’re all just a little bit tired of being cold. And tired of being tired (the meds I’ve been on drags me down twice a day. I, who never take naps, have been taking naps).
Here’s a paradox: a writer who’s not writing. Writers are always writing. Always. Seriously. In our heads and in our hearts, there are always things to see, things to learn and ideas being formed as two unsuspecting thoughts in the form of celestial neurons collide somewhere amongst the winkles of our craniums, creating a Brilliant Idea.
Internal writing, certainly, no problem. Actually getting words down on a page? Negative. That’s why I’ve been avoiding you.
Now I’m officially offended.
To be fair I have been constructing this post for weeks now, in the same style as Reynie Muldoon mentally constructing his letters in Trenton Lee Stewart’s book, The Mysterious Benedict Society (ah, that’s a Great Book of my childhood- a giant monster series that I gobbled up again and again and again. I haven’t been able to find another Stewart book that I really enjoy, but the Benedict series will always have a very special spot on my bookshelves).
For instance, I wanted to tell you all about how my three sisters and I took a snow walk through our white, white yard (this was pre -50 degrees). It was night, and the moon was bathing the world in a quiet lavender hue. The only sounds were the crunching of our footsteps and the murmur of our voices. When we reached the creek, we listened to it trickling of peaceful waters as a heron took flight, startled by four yong women.
See? There’s always beauty. Even in the Wintertime. I have to keep reminding myself that.
In fact, I actually ended up making a New Year’s resolution which is, basically, Don’t Be Lazy. Lazy writing is dead and should be avoided.
So I’m doing my best to push myself, as is custom. I was recently leafing through my planner. My planner had been converted into a memorabilia of old notebook pages of story ideas, new words and sporadic thoughts. Interesting magazine articles and photos. Old journal pages (my goodness how I’ve changed!) It’s my booklet of inspiration, which helps me remember what a long road this has been, this writing journey. It really has been a long, long road with ups and downs and endless improvement. I’m not about to give up because of some rotten weather. Let us put on some extra socks and write on!
The rabbits and I were overwhelmed with gratitude when the temperature raised about fifty degrees tonight- they did that special happy-rabbit dance that rabbits do and I danced along with them.
That’s another thing I need to work on this year: gratitude. Gratitude for this life I’ve been given, for the beauty in everything, for all of the little blessings that I forget to notice and certainly do not deserve. Like lavender snow and a warm, unexpected breeze.
After all, nothing raises our spirits more than feeling alive with opportunity and hope for the future.
Spring is just around the bend (and Happy Groundhog Day!)
Writer on, writer!
"A generous person will prosper; whoever refreshes others will be refreshed."
-Proverbs 11:25
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