I know we are supposed to treat writing as a job, a career, accepting that our dream requires effort. I know we are to apply our seat to the chair, glue our fingers to the keyboard. Even though our lives are flying apart like so much shrapnel, we are to harness our creative brains like little hamsters on an exercise wheel.
This hamster loss her momentum. The harness broke. I don’t know. Maybe I should have used duct tape instead of Elmer’s glue. Nothing stuck. Not even my seat. Definitely not my brain.
Sometimes it might seem like it would be easier to give up on a dream, instead of fighting for it. At least that’s what I tell myself while I’m licking my wounds. But deep down, I know that there will always be that voice that whispers, “What if?”
My DH always talks about when he was a kid they could call out a do-over during a game of baseball. How cool would that be?
So, today, I forgive myself for not writing as I should have. I allow myself to grieve. I look to today and tomorrow, taking the steps, moving forward in hope. One step at a time. I think I’m ready to call out for a do-over. How about you?