If you haven’t noticed from the lack of production on this blog, I’ve had some trouble focusing on writing lately. It’s hardly suprising I suppose, last weekend I went home to visit my family and the middle of this week was spent celebrating the Fourth of July! I’ve also had several personal stresses that have distracted me and / or tempted me to distraction.
Unfortunately, because of that I don’t have a lot to add today other than making sure I post because just the act of posting means I’ve written something this week and it means that I’ve made myself pause and think about the act of writing and reflect on what I’ve done or could be doing.
What I can add are two things. One is a poem I found in the “draft” section of my email. It’s from 2014, and interestingly enough it was during another tough time. It’s about fighting the good fight for someone you love, even though sometimes you can’t remember why.
Burned by days of sweat,
Toiling for the mundane;
A cycle raw and familiar.
We set out to change.
Perhaps we could, and
Our humdrum lives
would glow the way we once imagined.
Perhaps we were fools.
Perhaps we’d fail, and pass
our nights alone, for we
had long sense come to hate each other.
The outcome, I cannot say. But
I know this: there is power in the
There is more love and strength, courage and passion,
In a single choice made at the risk of comfort and safety,
than all the gall we summon over hurt feelings.
I once pined for you.
Help me feel butterflies again.
Incomplete, perhaps, but I doubt I’ll ever change it. I cannot comment on this one. Other than to say sometimes you can only fight for so long, and this is not a fight you can win alone.
Even so, I did want to share two other points before calling it a night. The first is the benefit of workshops. I am reading through two workshop submissions (of other people) for a workshop I am attending on Saturday. It will be my first one in this group, and my first one in general since graduating from college eight years ago. I’ll be sure to tell you all how it goes, but it is already rewarding because it’s forcing me into writing or reading other people’s rough drafts on a night when I didn’t really feel like it. It’s holding me accountable, and I need that.
The other thing is a song I’ve been listening to. It popped up on Pandora and the lyrics have been stuck in my head. I’m still sort of processing them, but I can already tell they have worked their way into my creative chaw. It’s called “Water Through a Mill” by Parsonsfield. Have a listen, maybe it will speak to you, too.