I’ve taken a sabbatical from a great many things in my life. Work, relationships, smoking, drinking, red meat, baseball, running and the SI swimsuit issue . . to name a few. Outside of smoking, I always returned with a better idea as to why my love for the thing was so hot and heavy to begin with.
Absence has hand when it comes to the heart, yanno?
So it happens that this post is my first shower of words in two stinking weeks. And while it seems counter intuitive to say so, I think I learned more about writing in the absence of doing so. Call it Zen, call it tuning in to your other senses, call it February.
I didn’t mean to take a sabbatical. Hell, the only two good ideas I ever came up with in my life have been busy trying to convince me otherwise ever since they were born. As far as life goes, I’m as clueless as that dude who docked the Exxon Valdez in the middle of a forest. On most counts.Writing gives me a place at the table. Always has.
Two weeks ago this Sunday I sat down to post something on love and life and ended up in a staring contest with my monitor, blankness winning. A blur of words would scream through my head in random sequences on the way to somewhere other than a captured thought, and so I pushed myself away from the keyboard and did something I had not done in eight years time.
I stopped writing.
In the not doing, I learned how much I love to write. I mean really fucking love to write. I mean, I love it with an aching need to do it. And before the absence, before I put down my pen and left my thoughts to gather and build, without textual confirmation, I am ashamed to say . . I think I took the writing for granted.
I learned the simple truth, that if I’m not writing, I’m not truly me. And while this ain’t Bedford Falls and I sure as hell ain’t George Bailey, I am better for having taken this time away.
So for the past couple weeks . . .
– Meditation was a cure all for the February blahs
– Yoga taught me you can always be in better shape, and so . . .
– . . . Wii Fit became a habit (I must post on this at some point)
– Running continued to be my drug of choice. I didn’t take any time off this year, thanks to the unseasonable temps in December and January.
– A phone call from an old friend provided some inspiration (Another must post)
– I went to see LeBron James and the Heat. He’s the best player on the planet right now. And I’m talking any sport. Right now. I saw Jordan a few times back when the Bulls were rock stars, and while he’s still tops in my book, man, LeBron did some things that made me laugh like a kid. Amazing.
– Rock climbing? Still ain’t ‘ma thing.
– Baking a cake? That ain’t ‘ma thing either.
– Turkey salad, as it turns out, is. The secret is red wine vinegar, Dijon mustard and green onions. With beer as a side? Perfect.
– The Prophet by Kahlil Gibran is higher learning.
Well, this was nice. It’s refreshing to find my words transferred into the black and white instead of the invisible ink of random thoughts. Seriously, I don’t know how mimes do it. All I know is what I love. And I know I love to write. Madly, deeply and always. Every now and again, you can find yourself when you’re not looking.