Do you ever wonder why our functionality as writers is so fragile?
One person or emotion or season or frown or word, can transform Writer’s peek to Writer’s block. An unassuming experience made me believe that it’s our passivity and not our fragility that gets in the way of our writing flow. It gets in the way of a better world too.
Wrong Way
In my neighbourhood, the trotting of dogs are heard well before the singing of birds. Very early each morning, I take my mini schnauzer for a walk to the top of the street. For months, we turned left at my driveway. Several cars passed us along the way, and each day we passed two people and another dog. The person without the dog looked like he was in his 20’s but I couldn’t be sure since his head was always bowed as he walked. The girl with the dog was a child, about 14. Unlike the man, she did look up but never smiled. It was a morbid way to start the day; three people sharing a routine without acknowledgement.
Right Way
Until one day, I changed routes and turned right. My new path came with three people: an elderly lady, a tall man, and a jogger. From her front garden, the elderly lady cheerfully commented on my dog each time we passed her. ‘He looks warm in that sweater… Good boy’. The jogger always waved as he ran by. And the tall man, who we passed on the way back, wished both me and my dog a good morning every day. This is more like it, I thought. The right side is the friendly side. Much nicer people. But one day, when the child with the dog walked by on the right side, I came to my senses. With a smile still lingering on my face from my greeting exchange with the elderly lady, I passed the child, and she smiled back.
On Reflection
Her smile was like a rewind button. I was taken back to the walks on the left side of the road. Every single morning that I had passed the fellow walkers, was replayed in my head like the 1993 film ‘Groundhog Day’. With the same concept as the film, I understood what was right in the end. As I relived the experience, I remembered that I had thought of smiling at the girl but decided she looked aloof so changed my mind. It occurred to me that I could have greeted the man too; our ears work even when we are looking down.
I found myself thinking about my writing habits – oddly. I theorised better ways to face writing obstacles and envisioned creating a ‘right side’ when there isn’t one. I promised myself that next time I received a rejection letter or given criticism or experienced challenging times, instead of stopping or escaping (to the right side), I would learn to feel it and react differently to initiate a change; just like I should have done when I was walking on this side of the road. It occurred to me, as I reflected on my behaviour, that I was no friendlier than the man and the girl. And when I have Writer’s block, I am no less passive than writers who allow the nature of the job to stop them.
If one person or emotion or season or frown or word, distraught us, we should respond by continuing to write and not shut down. If we want to avoid Writer’s block – and build a world that God can be proud of – I think it comes down to choices. What I’ve learnt by walking the talk (I couldn’t resist) is that those choices are not whether to turn left or right. They’re whether to conform or be the change.
Interesting food for thought. Thank you.
What I neede to read today. Thankyou