For so many years, too many, I wanted to be a writer, but I never actually wrote. Sure, there were random blips in time when I would sit down and vomit out key portions that rattled their cage in my brain. But that would be all, and I would go about my life, ignoring the caged beasts as if waiting for them to release themselves…
After many, many, many days of forcing the verb write, rather than dream of the noun writer, I’ve made writing something that can’t be ignored. No longer to I have to force myself to sit down to the preverbial pen and paper, but I have to force myself to stop, to the detremint of the rest.
This Writing Compulsion
This compulsion to write hits me as soon as I wake. Often, I skip coffee or breakfast or showering or dressing to get to my writing. The beasts have been uncaged and won’t suffer being held again.
Yet, my workout schedule has gone so far as to be some vague memory. My food choices are limited to as fast as possible which typically means some drive through dribble I know is posioning me, but well, writing. Thankfully, my life mate uses cooking as his downtime, mental-break time so I do get more real food that I would if forced to take care of myself.
Make Tomorrow Right Now
So, it’s the new year. What a fortuitous time to re-install old habits (that sounds counter-intuitive, but in my case, it’s good. I swear I used to meditate and journal and workout and go to a job [though that last one isn’t really a life goal it just implies that at some point in my life I got more than 400 steps in a day]).
Right, all I’m saying is it’s time to add some necessary things back into my life. All things I’ve, at one point or another, been very good at, even enjoyed. Why now? Why not yesterday? Well, so far, I’ve only managed some cheap words in a virtual world, so we’ll see…
It’s not like the thoughts weren’t there. It’s not that I haven’t been aware that I gained twenty pounds in 4 months, or I that I can feel my muscles atrophy, but tomorrow never comes. Time to do it today, or risk falling to a pile of squish. Youth’s genetic superiority is fading and only effort will get keep me alive. Maybe therein lies my reason. Have I glimpsed the end of my life as this avatar? Maybe so, but that doesn’t necessarily matter. What I’m concerned about is being able to get out of bed without groaning (I’m not quite there yet), being able to tie my shoes without tweaking something, and carrying my groceries in one trip.
Well, that took a twist. Thanks for listneing. Thanks for being here to hold me accountable. Let’s see if I make tomorrow today, or just throw it out there as another thing “I’ll get to.”
Blessings and constructive obstacles to you and your new year 🙂