I wish I didn't have to deal with the DMV tomorrow, or deal with the pain of dentistry today, or finish moving my stuff out of my apartment later this week...and any number of endless things, on and on. Those things that keep me fettered. I wish I could just dive into my time at the San Francisco Writers' Grotto
this week and next and pour over the other students' work for the Lambda Retreat
, and then, please, yes, finally, write write write before I go off to LA for a week of workshops, classes, exercises, networking, etc. I'm sure Lambda will be fabulous--I have no doubt--but it's not really time for writing, at least from what I can tell of the jam-packed schedule. There will surely be some. But my point here--and I do have one--is that I am really frustrated with how much life seems to get in the way of writing. And maybe it's too much time on facebook or watching livestreaming TV shows on netflix. Okay, guilty. I need to get more discipline. But I always have this feeling--oh if I didn't have to be a responsible adult, wouldn't I just have more space to write?
Oddly, I am beginning to discover the opposite is true. Momentum feeds momentum. And all these things that seem to keep me bound to Earth--bills, errands, the dentist, planning for classes, grocery shopping, taking care of my cat, moving, etc. etc.--I always thought kept me from playing in the ether. But I have to start from some place. The ball can't just float forever, it's gotta smack on concrete, and keep smacking, up and back. What would it mean to fly if you never learned how to land, or to take off? Flying wouldn't be that special. But I miss it. My wings ache to stretch. But the more I do, the more engaged I am with the material world, the more I can knock out some words that feel meaningful. Like this, right here, right now. See? Now tomorrow, at the Grotto, I'll back up on the runway and launch.