Like Driving at Night
I've been feeling discouraged with writing lately.
I've ignored the desire to free write for going on two weeks now, and I can't put it off much longer or all aspects of my life will suffer.
Last night I dreamed that I was trying to park my car on the side of the road, but it kept rolling away, even when I pulled the emergency brake. I looked inside and saw a bunch of bags sitting on the gas pedal. An apt metaphor for life lately. I keep trying to park, but all my stuff has been resting on the gas. I need to take up a stranglehold on intention again. Set priorities in the morning or even the evening before, then track my each task on the Sticky Notes app of the computer, or set an egg timer, or a keep a handwritten work log--anything to maintain focus.
I feel called to do these daily blog posts as if by some higher force, and so I don't dare quit, even when it feels burdensome. I feel like I'm walking a path that leads somewhere I'm meant to go, even though I can't see the end destination and don't always trust its guidance. That's why, when my husband asks, "How long are you going to keep doing that?" I just smile and return to the keyboard. I've learned to trust that feeling of being pulled toward something, and I know in my heart that something good will come of it eventually.
It's like that quote from E. L. Doctorow: "Writing is like driving at night in the fog. You can only see as far as your headlights, but you can make the whole trip that way.”