I just got schooled at racquetball by a man at least twenty years my senior. It went about as I expected it might… he stood in the middle and hit the ball all over the court, and I ran around chasing it unsuccessfully. I’ve noticed that the older we get, the smarter we become about such things. Guess I’m not there yet… which is both a blessing and a curse, I know.
I realized this morning that if I wasn’t running, then I was standing frozen, unsure where to go. This is how I feel about the blog these days. It’s not that I have nothing to say — on the contrary, it would be easy to “run all over the court” with neither focus nor clarity about what I’m trying to accomplish. I have made a few starts in this direction, but as with the racquet I have lacked proper follow-through.
My problem is that I have too much to say, and it’s all fighting for precedence. I keep circling around issues both big and small — ISIS, Ebola, our upcoming (and very divided) local election, bridging philosophical differences with our kids about how to use the space in our new townhouse, what to have for breakfast…. I feel like I’m playing intellectual Whack-a-Mole, which would aptly describe how I felt on the racquetball court this morning.
My drafts folder is beginning to fill up with some essays, but this little issue of finishing a novel is standing in the way of completing any other writing of substance. So for the next while, I’ll try not to fight where I’m at… and just let the words flow as they choose. Now to get back to that hopefully final draft of my novel….
Mark of Words 