I’ve taken more than a month off here. Intentionally? Perhaps. I watched all the seasons of Friends. I played many mindless iPad games. I sulked. I froze. I slept. I drank. I pretended.
I want to write that I read. I planned. I outlined. I contemplated. I meditated. I watched people and conversed with them.
I did not.
Most of you were diligently working along on your New Year’s resolutions. I did not.
It’s hard to live out your convictions sometimes. I pretended I was being creative, and that’s just not the same. Don’t get me wrong, a break is good. But have you ever taken a break from something you just barely started?
Pretending to take a hiatus to work on stories or poems does not mean that I did that. I was watching ten years of Jennifer Aniston’s haircuts. Sure, I thought, “After this episode, I’ll get that idea jotted down or this idea fleshed out.” In reality, I poured another glass of wine and let Netflix automatically start The One Where Laura Lies On The Couch.
Last week a friend wrote eloquently and meaningfully about absence from her blog – it’s called Writing Shed and you should check her out. Although there are layers of meaning in what she writes, she reminded me to get back to work.
Thoreau was right when he noted that, “Most men lead lives of quiet desperation and go to the grave with the song still in them.”
It’s midwinter: What do you need to do?
Now, go. Get to work.