This morning I woke slowly as Jeremy got ready and left for work, and then fell back asleep. I woke again two hours later, disoriented, finding enough energy to consume a small fruit-forward breakfast, slowly read a chapter of Go Set a Watchman, and eat a meat-forward second breakfast before succumbing back into a very deep sleep. My body stirred; it was mid-morning. My eyes focused on the empty white ceiling above me, then the empty beige wall in front of the bed. I dedicated the next two hours to wondering which empty wall my painting of a winter forest would look best on, or if perhaps the ceiling was ideal as it seemed my new existence consisted of different states of awakeness from the same reclined vantage point.
My sloth-like morning was delicious, and much-needed. It’s the first morning I can recall with no commitments until afternoon in a good month or two. But simply “being” is never total relaxation for me. I convinced myself years ago that laying in bed is not easing me towards my ultimate goal of global domination; I take my meditation in doses. A good friend of mine always asks me, “What’s your next step?” And this morning, even though I could think of goals and desires for my day and my year (starting with a leisurely jaunt to the loo), I could not find it in myself to set about achieving them. (For those of you wondering, I did make it to the loo in time.) I realized I’m afraid.
I’ve been very fearful of writing a blog post for quite some time. Maybe you’ve deferred a dream for a period of your life, too. Coming back to it is scary, right? It’s like meeting someone who used to be your best friend after 10 years apart–will she look the same? Will I even recognize her? What if we just don’t get along anymore? Then what???
This is how I’ve been feeling about writing. It’s a hobby that’s slipped away gradually, but in a big way over the course of the past year. Blogging adds another level of fear for me. Picking this ship up again means trying to find ways to deal with scary realms of technology again. It means writing my “bona fide” stories to an audience that prefers to read headlines. I don’t have five-star photos, paid sponsors, or even a computer that works very well. It’s just me, my thoughts, and photos from an old iPhone.
But I write on. Because today when I asked myself what I would do if I had no fear, I told myself I’d just go ahead and write a new blog post. This, this right here, is my “next step.” Because not only do I want to keep writing (I type ever-faster even this morning as my thoughts form–or maybe that’s just the coffee kicking in), but I must.