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Changing the Spin of Time — Moving through Writer’s Block

Changing the Spin of Time -- Moving through Writer's Block

My pen is moving and I am writing…FINALLY! For weeks my companion lay still beside the paper begging me to write –ANYTHING! I felt blocked…I never imagined myself to be in a place where nothing was forthcoming…nothing worthy of setting down on paper let alone transcribing to computer to share! I toyed with this subject and that. Something inspirational or something informative but nothing would come.

Today, however, I felt compelled to move past this thing called writer’s block…to press on and move into this most obscure place. I decided to sit and write what dangles in the present moment…to rummage through my brain for some worthy fodder to dig about in. To open that heavy door that’s been locked for the past weeks. My writing partner aka my other self, my true self has been preoccupied with things like subject and integrity and the regular me –living in the physical dimension– has been over run with things like bills, work and a little five year old looking for attention and play dates during spring break.

I find myself with that jugglers hat on…the distraction hat…the hat that takes me away from writing and thinking too much about writing…the writers block hat…it rests sideways on my head giving me the look of a silly clown with a perplexed expression. I’ve been over analyzing things especially about not writing, at the same time I’ve also been search for the ability to change the spin of time…to unclog the clogged…to wrestle free from the fire breathing dragon that has been holding my pen hostage.

Today I’m here in this moment wrestling with that dragon and daring to write about what hasn’t been thought about in advance. I’m writing with my derelict hand…the hand that’s connected to my rebellious spirit…the brave me.

These days feel heavy and non proportioned. They carry Pandora’s box between their fingers toying with the notion of opening it. These days wear too much make-up like an old Vaudeville character hastening to finish her performance. These days wrap their idiosyncratic fallacies about my hand and entice me to believe in the horror of writer’s block!

When I don’t write I feel the tug of the entire human race hanging from my belly button…the weight terrorizes me. This is a life…a life less ordinary.

I’m writing for nothing more than the moment when I can change the spin of time…to rattle the moments between moments…to express to everyone how beautiful it is to hear my pen scratch the paper as I write these sacred words…to leave writers block at the starting line…to move through this most obscure place without looking back!

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