This morning I decided to do something different —- I walked the long way to work, extending my walk from about 15 minutes to 40. The change in scenery and routine was what I needed. The walk gave me a nice burst of energy that I needed for a busy day. My legs appreciated the stretch. I didn’t mind waking up a half hour earlier. I put on my headphones and just walked and I loved it. I miss walking. I mean, I do walk just about everywhere but it’s walking to work or to the store or some place else I have to go, but walking just for the sake of walking and clearing my head and calming myself before or after whatever it is that is going to make my head dizzy —- I miss that. It’s too dark out to walk after work. Have I walked in the dark before? Yes, but it’s depressing. I like the light in the morning or in the evening, just before the sun goes down. I can’t do the treadmill. Can’t do it. Can’t. I’m not going anywhere. Staring at the same thing. I don’t have the focus to walk. It’s inside it’s so weird. But how else am I supposed to get my walking done in the winter when it’s cold and it’s dark and there is possibly snow and ice on the ground? Well, the snow and ice have held off for a little while. It’s still cold and it’s still dark, but it’s not dark in the morning before I have to go to work — so I will do that and hope there isn’t two feet of snow on the ground like there was last winter.
So, I am trying to blog again. I don’t know how that is going to work, but I am going to try to write at least weekly. I have a journal (pen and paper) that I write in for the more personal thoughts or events in my life and I have slacked with that, so I have to try to keep up with that as well, but one journal has never taken away from the other. I promised both my attention and I promised to try to write more often. It feels good to type… it feels good to write. I know it’s silly but work has never really been that inspiring to me, at least as a writer (it’s actually kind of my anti-writing because I feel it takes a lot of energy that I need to write with at the end of the day) BUT I had to write out this detailed email and I got a reply that it was “beautifully written” and I’ve received similar compliments about my writing style. I don’t know if it’s because everyone is THAT BAD at writing and grammar and expressing themselves eloquently or if because I’m just good at it, but it felt good to get those compliments and it reminded me that I need to express myself this way. I was reminded that I love to express myself this way and have since I was about twelve.
Of course, a lot of what I write about has changed since then. When I was younger, I created not only characters and their stories, but I also created maps of the towns they lived in and sketches of what their bedrooms would look like. Now, I write mostly about what happens to me or what I’m thinking about, but that part of my brain that creates characters or stories or towns really hasn’t changed much. My imagination is there, but sometimes I feel like I stifle it a bit. I don’t want to do that any more. Does that mean I’m going to crank out stories like I did when I was a kid? Probably not… well, not right away at least… but I want to get back in to that creative place. I want to get back into that rhythm. There’s a rhythm I feel when I’m writing and I don’t know where it comes from and I never know how to keep it going, but when it starts up I just hold on to it.
Currently reading: Martian Time-slip by Philip K. Dick
Currently listening to: Wye Oak, St. Vincent, Destroyer and The Smiths, of course.
