Do you pressure yourself to produce?
I’m ready to do something new as I let my new manuscript settle, but I’m not sure what, so I decided to remain open. I suppose I’ll wait. I’ll live. And I’ll rest.
I have to rest so that I’m ready. We all do.
Recently, I was trying to force myself to create. I like to write after I eat some evenings, and I generally eat the same salad weekdays. It’s a lovely, hearty salad with walnuts and dried apples.
A week ago, my husband went shopping and when he came home, he had purchased our regular items. I asked when they started offering a half-size version of my salad, and he said it was the same one, same price. Just smaller now. The ingredients are more expensive, and what was once a meal is now a snack.
While I can afford to buy additional food, the asymmetry of access to the basics—including nourishing food—is increasing. My salad was a reminder.
We’re human. Our bodies (and minds) are easily taken for granted when they are working perfectly, but we are just as capable of pain as we are equilibrium and pleasure. We are as capable of block and prolific output.
I was reminded of my own capacity for pain this past week as I navigated jaw strain that radiated outwards, causing incredible migraines. And while I still muddled through most of the things I’d signed up for, I was indeed muddling, and I did not write much.
Sometimes muddling is the best we can do. And it is during these times that we have to ask ourselves, how can we be OK with taking a break from the constant output?
If we can step back from pain and disappointment, block and confusion, with the same ability we often step back from pleasure and flow, we can see all the more acutely the ebb that is necessary to facilitate flow.
A little time to rest can change everything.
So if you’re writing, write. If you’re resting, rest. Savor the salad as long as its there, and know that every moment is at the precipice of another.
