Trying to Crack Serious Writer’s Block

Stream of Consciousness – Serious Writer’s Block

Writers group, Hypatia, is meeting next Sunday. I am having such a hard time writing ANYTHING! What is happening to me? This used to be my go-to. Like I could just sit down and write. Poems used to flow out of me. Pain and joy used to flow onto the page. Whatever I felt at the moment could be put to words. Not so lately. I haven’t even blogged in over a week. WTF?

So, I’ve been looking for prompts. Googling prompt sites, signing up for emails for prompts. Scouring the recesses of my brain for ideas. Finally, I talked to Dan. Here are his ideas.

Write about your new neighbors. Two couples, each with a small child, sharing the basically 1 bedroom house, one bath house. (There is a small room in the back, which I suppose could be a 2nd bedroom if necessary.) They use this house as a getaway, they live in Miami, and drive up here on the weekends. But no, I met them, and they seem like nice normal people and I don’t want to make up a story about them.

Write about how asylum seekers can now claim asylum in Mexico, so they don’t need to walk all the way up here. Um, NO. Because of all the obvious reasons, not the least of which is my total distaste for anything political, and my total disagreement with him over our border issues.

Write about the affair DJT is having with Elizabeth Warren. NO? How about the one with Hillary? No? How about Warren and Hillary? NO? Why not? Because…. I am bad enough with fiction.

No political stuff? Ok, write about the banyan tree in the back yard. Trouble is I have written a poem about it, way back when I first got here, and don’t think I can do better than that.

I told Dan that I was so glad not to live in his head. Full of ideas, streaming out in non-sensical tangents.

He was obviously not helpful. I am back looking for inspiration, right where I was.

I scanned, briefly, the “book” I wrote about my abusive marriage and epic divorce. I was thinking I could just take a chapter from it. No. It is too triggering, and while I’m glad I wrote it, every time I look at it, (which is about once or twice a year) I don’t want to read it. I don’t want to rehash stuff that I finally managed to banish to the deepest recesses of my mind, and to actually forgive him for. Especially now, knowing how ill he is, and was, and ever shall be. I warned him so many times he would die old, sick and all alone because he pushed away everyone who loved him. And it turns out to have been prophetic, he is all of those things. I feel for him, but I don’t want to ever engage in that again. I wish him well, and I wish he leaves me and my son alone.

Not something I want to write about.

There were a few men after him. Way after, like 7 years before I even wanted to date. One I thought was significant, but now I cannot for the life of me understand what about that man so charmed me. UGH.

Then Dan. That story is still being written, but it’s a lovely story, so far, most of the time. However, it is not something I wish to share, at least the deepest part of it. It’s personal. Besides, everyone knows and likes him in Hypatia. So I don’t, and won’t, write more about that relationship than I already have.

So, ok, men are out as a subject.

I told Dan I was give up on trying to write and was going to go outside, climb up in the boat, and deal with the head which needs cleaning, and empty the galley maybe. Boat has been in my front yard for 2 months. We worked on it for about a week, but it was so hot and/or rainy, we just stopped the work, waiting for cooler and drier weather. But there are no stories worth telling. Boating turns out to be a whole different experience at 68 than it was at 50. We are done with the hassle.

Thinking about selling this house….I still hate to, I still love it, I love the location and I believe Dan does too. But it needs another bathroom and about 500 square feet to be comfy for two people. And the banyan tree would have to come down to do that.

I could write about the holes the rats chewed in my duct work, which I just got a quote on in the $1000’s to fix. Actually, not fix, but replace. But we did find out that there are companies that can rat-proof a place for about $1000, at least that’s what this guy paid for his own house to be done. And I wondered if we do that can we then put an addition on my house and live here pest free for the next 10 years or so? The idea of moving two houses into one is daunting.

I guess I better go put some clothes on and clean up my kitchen and then go out to the boat and see if I can do anything with it. I have a feeling that it will be too hot by the time I get out there, so I’ll put it off for another day. So easy to do that. I get an A in procrastination of jobs I don’t want to do. At least I don’t have to mow the lawn this week.

At least it stopped raining, like totally stopped. And I need to get some exercise. Maybe meditate. That always at least centers me. I could bang the gong too. Or not bang it, but play it. Maybe that would take me somewhere.

Nice that a life is so good, on such an even keel.

Autumn Ruminations

Fall has come to Florida too. Not just to New England, with its riot of colors on every hillside. But also here, where the palm fronds still wave, and the trees are still green. So how does it manifest?

The overnight temperatures instead of being in the low 80’s are in the low to mid 70’s. The humidity, instead of being 70% is mostly below 60%. The clouds, when they form, are fair weather clouds that float above the Gulf of Mexico like cotton balls in an aquamarine sky. The rain becomes a rare event, and the grass doesn’t need mowing constantly.

It is subtle, as I suppose it should be. In New England the colors of fall, the early frosts that turn to beautiful days in the apple orchards are a promise that life will return after the winter forces rest on all that lives. It is beautiful, but still…..I’m happy to know I can go to the beach still, where the Gulf water is still in the mid to high 80’s and the sun warms the days still to 90 or so. I can still wear shorts and flip flops.

It doesn’t even begin to be chilly here until maybe January. Then, for maybe 6 weeks, I have to switch to jeans and closed-toed shoes, and maybe even a light jacket. That north wind, of the polar express up north, can reach us, and drop the temps into the 50’s occasionally. Mostly 60’s, and that is a relief, really. A respite from the intense heat of summer.

Today is my 3 year anniversary of moving here. I think I have assimilated to the pace of life here. I have manifested the dream I dreamed about before I retired. I have an amazing man in my life. I have a very close circle of good friends. I have a cute little house, though it has its issues. I have survived a hurricane and other weather anomalies. We added a boat to our lives, but I think that part is over. It is just too much work, especially down here. I loved having a boat in my earlier life. Now, it is just a source of work and anxiety.  As I see many of my friends paring down their lives, simplifying, I realize that’s just a good thing to do as we age.

Our social life is a lot of fun. We have good friends who play music at the many venues here. I have my writer’s group, which I formed, and which meets at my house once a month. Someone was asking about it the other day, what we write, etc. After explaining to her that we write whatever we want, that if we have a prompt, we are not mandated to write about it if it doesn’t resonate with us. I told her we all read what we write, and usually share a couple bottles of wine, and a couple joints while we do it. So that in the end, the 8 of us are a little drunk, a little high, and full of laughter and love and stories. I also have my spirit girls, who don’t indulge in the wine and weed, but do engage in bonding, in our shared stories and commitment to trying to raise our consciousness. We meet every other week and rotate the meetings to each other’s homes.

Then Dan and I have the gongs. While sound healing is really my thing, it is also something he has embraced, although the spiritual aspects of it are still not within his grasp. He’s willing and open, and maybe one day the epiphany will strike, but until then, as long as he’s happy doing what he’s doing, then I’m happy.

While Connecticut will always be home to me, Florida has also become home. And, Connecticut grows fainter. It is where my son was born and grew up, and I still have many close friends and memories there.  But you know, my life doesn’t intersect with theirs very much now, so they are fading a little with time.

Still I am blessed. Surrounded by grace, grateful that I am in a place that brings me joy every day. Grateful for my friends and family, and particularly the man I love.

Love and light to everyone.