Or, What swimming laps taught me.
My hand cramps as I write faster and faster. Trying to keep up with the thought waves building. Trusting I’ll be able to read those chicken scratches when I put on my editing hat.
I grab the castor oil and feverishly massage the pad of my thumb. Yup, castor oil. A friend was recommended castor oil for thinning hair. It did nothing for her hair but helped the arthritis in her hands.
Down the rabbit hole I went to discover that yes, the castor bean has anti-inflammatory properties.
I tried it.
Suitably oiled I grab my pen. And off I go. Faster still.
THEN THERE’S THE FLIP SIDE.
Those mornings when I sit down, following my self-imposed schedule.
It’s time to write.
And I sit. And sit. And sit. Look at old notes. Look at the sky. The water. Other boats. A seagull cruising past looking for a titbit. I throw him some dog kibbles. Soon I have a dissonant chorus of screaming sea gulls. It amuses me. For a while.
Back to sitting. And nothing. Not even a flicker. I sit some more.
I decide I hate writing.
I remember how –
I hated swimming after a long abstinence.
I’m back in that pool.
I barely make the first lap.
After three laps I want to die.
After six laps I know I’m going to die.
After ten laps I find my stride.
I’m gliding now.
My breathing is easier.
I love the feel of the water against my skin.
My arms slicing and pulling.
My legs propelling and assisting.
The laps pile up.
I can do this. I just had to get started.
Just a few words.
Something someone said.
Or that I read.
And the words pile up. Become sentences. Paragraphs. Pages. Articles.
Cyber hugs and Blessings All. If you feel it in you to write, don’t hesitate!
Photo from Pixaby