It starts as a tickle. A whiff. A verdant flash in the upper left quadrant.
An undulating breeze that smells like Oklahoma.
One moment, a blanket of white covers the hard bed outside your window, and then overnight it’s dotted in green and yellow.
Like a bear, this winter has made me sluggish. Science says that the biological, anticipatory eating is supposed to happen in the fall, but I seem to have embraced that stage of hibernation the best. Too much comfort food in January, and more airline miles than running miles has made me sleepy and uninterested in writing.
I have pressed my fingers to keyboards, smartphones, and notepads. E-mails, proposals, spreadsheets, longitudinal plans. I’ve been writing for Topeka Magazine and have more deadlines and stories due. Gainfully employed, helping hubs put food on the table.
But I haven’t been writing writing.
Not writing the kind of prose that feeds my soul, or yours – the person who reads these random ramblings. A favorite friend told me, I hurt when you don’t write. And it jolted me.
It would be easy to chalk off non-writing to being busy, but we are all busy with our busy-ness and deadlines and mirror lines and long lines and wrinkle lines.
I despise using busy as the excuse. Shall I blame complacency? Laziness? Writer’s block?
I’m not sure, and decided there didn’t need to be a reason. Three weeks ago, I woke up and my fingers were itchy. The sun kissed my face and an urgency kicked off the covers; write, you fool.
I picked up a pen and started to write. Then I switched to a pencil and continued. After that, I pitched another story to the Topeka Mag editor. Then I wrote a poem. Edited a chapter. Practiced yoga. Photographed emerging sweet pea seedlings. Planted ranunculus corms.
Then, I went for a run.
My limbs lumbered toward the sun like a bud buried under the snow. Tentative at first, and then burst forth in green and wet glory. Muscle memory took over, and life happened again.
I am embracing spring this year, and celebrating it by putting pencil to pad. Even though it snowed and iced (on Easter!), I don’t plan to crawl back under the blankets. I will write here again regularly–with purpose and presence. You may see some reposts along with new content until I hit my stride–hoping to re-inject some lightness and humor along with more photography. So many ideas, so little time!
Like my garden, my ideas are in early growth and I’m plotting beds (stories) and nourishing the soil (words). I am even creating an audience participation series in May (or June!) – I can’t wait to share the details, so stay tuned.
As always, thank you for being here, and happy spring! Hibernation is over.