How does one get unstuck? You know, that kind of stuck where you can’t seem to carve out enough time (or what you believe is enough time) to do a decent job at something so you do nothing.
On a recent walk, I decided to look for beauty in ice, which can be quite destructive. Such surroundings are bound to inspire thoughts of ice queens.
I’ve been trying to remember what it was like to be a kid — to remember what I played at and imagined and loved. I want to see if the things I started out loving provide clues to how to bring those playful feelings (free, light, uninhibited, unworried about outcome, adaptable, unrestricted) back into my way too serious life.
I realized that what frightened Luke on the trail was not what he saw. It was what was out of site and unknown. It’s the same for me. The broader I can make my view of the world, the less there is to fear.
A week ago, I took a half a Friday off and rode my bike home from work. The weather was perfect – mid 70s, windy but not too bad. I hoped to bike off months of stress and frustration, clear my head and reenergize myself for my manuscript revision work ahead. An awful load of expectations for a bike to carry.
“Mouth open in a silent scream, like a Hitchcock girl on a muted television. Then comes the folding, the doubling over that forces the air out of her lungs in a woosh. Being tough is no longer the point of this game…”