The inciting event behind this resuscitation
We are all hard wired to tell stories.
More than once, I have summoned the energy to type a quick blog post, only to give myself an out, and procrastinate myself out of the 86,400 seconds that we have in one day. And now that we are 'sheltering in place' I have more time to work on my mental muscle, to focus my creative energy.
Besides, lately, my ambitious writing voice refuses to be silenced. It keeps reminding me of the guests gathered under a beautiful tree where a bar has been set up, offering cocktails before the ceremony titled "Six Feet Closer To Each Other, Finally" kicks off. On the lawn are rows of green folding chairs and yonder, the sun is just beginning to sink into the horizon. The story of after we get through this - the whole world is hurting, right now.
The voice reminds me of all the setbacks in 2018, and 2019 that created breakthroughs that resulted in stories that remain untold. That need to be told ahead of the 2020 stories that are unfolding.
On the phone with a writer friend, I admit that something has surprised me; that all these years I have felt hopelessly shut out of a part of my mind's imagination. How do you tackle something that remains in the shadows, she asks. I hope you don't blame yourself for taking that part away from your life, she continues.
That is a true friend. One that incites you to constructive irritation with yourself, so much that you get up and resuscitate your blog! Et viola mes amis, I am back!