Writing is a scary thing. Sitting down to do it after a long break due to health issues, laziness, busy schedules, and stress feels like sticky summer days. The kind where you know the plunge into icy swimming pool waters is exactly what you need, but you hesitate. Toes over the edge you breathe in deeply, tell yourself to jump in, but your body disobeys your mind. You stay frozen. An iceberg adrift in a sea of heat. Your only salvation the very thing you refuse to do. The water will be cold. It will shock your body as you hold your breath and lose yourself as you sink deep into the dreamy, blue, depths. You will burst up with a splash, gasping for air, water up your nose, and wiping chlorine droplets from your eyes. You shiver for a minute, smiling without knowing it, and you float weightlessly.
This is how it feels to pick up writing after a long break without it. I’m resistant and scared but I know I will love it once I get up the courage to start.
Yesterday my writing group met up. Only one other person was able to make it and we were both out of practice. We chatted and delayed the moment when we would start writing. My mind was blank. What to write? What to do? I don’t know where to start. I have no story inside me. Nothing to share.
Lies and insecurities.
When we finally did start to write, words gushed past me in a wave of clear, fresh, water. Refreshing to drink as letter, punctuation, and sentences cleansed my worries and began to form a story. It felt so good. This was what I needed.
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