On Procrastination —
Once again I failed to heed my own advice: “Just sit down and write it. A shitty-first-draft, that’s all you need to knock out. It will take much less time and effort than you are using to put it off.”
I know that. I mean I really know that. But, once again, I stewed, I cleaned the sunporch, even tackled ironing that has sat for so many months that the design of the basket that holds it had become part of the cloth’s design. I’d written in my head, at night before I fell asleep, always promising to get up at 4:50 a.m. the next morning and get to it as soon as the coffee kicks in. What I wrote, in my head, was lyrical. I made it even better, again, in my head, as I sat for my morning meditation. But to actually put words to paper? Not a chance. I obviously hadn’t suffered enough.
Well, this morning, waiting in the doctor’s office, that sweet spot arrived. I pulled out pen, found a few scraps of paper, and wrote away. Now it’s not as good as my midnight musings, it falls far short of my meditational rewrite, but it’s a start.
I feel relieved, happy, brighter. Now if only I can manage to take my own advice the next time. And maybe rent a small space in the doctor’s waiting room….
Another Sunday, http://www.cynthiastrauff.com