When You’re Weary
I’m a little lackluster today. I’m finding motivation hard to muster and perspective tough to glean. Maybe it’s the northern chill that descended upon my park and cut my morning walk short. Maybe it’s the yellowing of all the leaves or the quiet of this small town after the bustle of a trip to New York City. Maybe it’s the fact that my daughter is away and with her my sense of place in the world. Maybe it’s just a simple ebb in my momentum – an eddy in the river of my soul.
All I can do when I’m weary is to begin – to write one sentence after another. I breathe and I write, I breathe and I write some more, and then I begin to flow. I begin to warm up. I can see the swaying gold inside those yellow leaves. The tides of my imagination begin to swell. My soul wakes. Words and images lift my shoulders and pull me into another head space. One sentence at a time.
Can I do this with everything? Can I pull my weary bones towards fitness, towards eating more healthy foods, towards simplifying my life, towards creating an entire novel? Yes.
When you’re weary, dip deeply into the ebb, feel it, let the eddy pull you around and around — and then start moving your arms and legs – suddenly you’ll be swimming.