Some mornings I can’t wait to jump out of bed to write, even if it’s just a Facebook or Twitter update. And some days, well, I feel I’ve lost touch with my writing mojo – that spark to create something that excites me. I forget this is my playground that I created and I can do whatever I want here. It was on one of those uninspiring mornings that I read Something Clever 2.0′s hilarious post How To Cure Writer’s Block and it really hit home.
I’ve been suffering from writer’s block for a month or two now.
Okay, maybe three. Last summer through me off track completely. (Understatement.) Distracted and disjointed from lots of travel, having a full house again, and armed with the knowledge that I would only have the kids for a short time before they turned around and left again for college, I slipped back into “Mommy Mode” the moment they walked in the door like a mom on steroids.
I wondered how did I ever juggle so much and with so much chaos and so much noise years ago when they lived at home? I blame it on my new empty nester status. After months of a peaceful and quiet existence – often too quiet – I’m now thrown by the ruckus. I get overwhelmed. And, whether I want to admit it or not, I think hormones play a part in this too – I just can’t seem to focus these days. You too, you say?
So you can imagine my surprise when the inspiration for a post finally came to me during a golf lesson one morning. In a nearly perfect pre-swing position, I froze like a deer in the headlights while staring at a tree until my instructor asked what I was doing. “I’m writing,” I whispered, club still perched midair. Sensing I was on a roll, I did what I always do to keep the creative juices flowing…I went to the car wash. Symbolic, yes? And then on my way to there – it happened again. This rush of ideas that filled me after weeks of a dry spell. So I quickly pulled over and grabbed a pen. This is what came to me – hope you’re sitting down – “A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush.” Okay, it wasn’t a gem or even original, but at least I wrote something that felt meaningful at that moment, besides my grocery list.
Continue reading this post on Linda Wolff’s blog, Carpool Goddess