March 21, 2020
I told myself I wouldn’t write a single word about Social Distancing. But any kind of writing feels better than guiltily staring at a blank page. It brings to mind what a sympathetic writing instructor once told me: the most important body part to a writer is the one you sit on. Just sit and write. It’s harder than it sounds.
More frustrating is the fact that I keep looking over at the clock. What else could I possibly have going on? As it happens, I’ve been waiting for years to find myself in this situation – nothing to do but tackle a writing project. Still, having the time to write and actually writing are vastly different beasts.
Not that I can complain. I realize how privileged I am here in small-town Wisconsin, that I can still leave my house to be alone in the woods or by the creek. That in order to visit my friends eight miles away, I can just enter my own garage and drive my personal vehicle right up to their front door. (Nothing “public” about this form of transportation, at least until I run out of gas.) That I have room to breathe in a time when even breathing is not a given.
Be that as it may, I want to sit and write. Always have. Maybe what has been missing for me is accountability and not free time. Knowing there’s someone on the other end waiting to receive a finished piece might help me set my thoughts down as text. It’s also very possible that I’m just fishing for praise. Either way, or maybe with a little of both, here’s my first real stab at a blog.