I'm dying to watch The West Wing. How attractive to slip into another world when I'm tired from living in my own. Not tired of my own but tired from it, from the daily rhythm of writing and feedback and revisions at work. Feedback makes my writing better but grinds me a bit in the process. Though not The West Wing, writing on this page gives me another world where my words aren't critiqued or measured, and this is refreshing.
I haven't written here in about a month because the breeze kicked up in all corners of my life. At work I was trusted with several high priority projects in a row — finally I'm really getting to be creative. At the same time my jawbone is breaking out because I've held my chin in my hands so much these weeks, staring at my double monitor, typing and thinking.
My Google calendar says I've also been busy with traveling. To New Orleans with work and down to the beach for a sunny weekend on the Bogue Sound. Busy with health appointments and communion baking bread for church, hearing David Brooks talk at the National Press Club and co-hosting a party in my home. I've written new dance and theater reviews, watched a friend sing opera at a dive bar down the street, met my friend Emily for breakfast at Whole Foods, our favorite spot. Walking around in the early summer air and talking on the phone to friends from home and my mom.
In the abundance of life, I haven't found time to write. How unfortunate, when this is the very season I have had the most life to record! I'm quick to think of myself as lazy, undisciplined, unmotivated. But tonight I am remembering Ecclesiastes.
To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven. (Eccl 3:1)
I'm going to go watch The West Wing, and maybe I'll write next week.