I’m always disappointed when life gets in the way of something like writing on bent spoon, though life getting in the way is not such a bad thing some times either. If life is getting in the way of the rambling musings of one man, attempting to make sense of what it is to be a father of two young boys in this crazy world, then it means that I’m at least fully steeped in living each day.
The past month (it’s almost been that long since I’ve posted though I did squeak something online last week) has brought highs and lows, and a lot of things in between, which is what life does, right?
It’s easy to get swept up in the euphoria of a moment, or dragged down by the weight of one of “life’s little tragedies,” (coined by my grandmother.) And all the while, in between all of those ups and downs are a lot of in betweens, days that just go along and are filled with the things of life that make days happen: cooking breakfast, lunch, and dinner; eating with your children; driving to and from school; PTA meetings and board meetings for sporting teams; work; cleaning toilets, and cat boxes, and the dishes from all of the cooking and eating.
There are days when 9:00 PM comes along, the oldest is finishing reading in his bed before going to sleep, and I can barely keep my eyes open for enough time to read ten pages in the book I’m reading. Right now I’m reading “The Lost Symbol” by Dan Brown. It’s an easy read, and yet the life of the day that has gotten in the way of everything else has taken out all of my energy to do anything else.
This life issue is part of what ground my writing down to a crawl over the last month, so I’ve been working at rewiring my patterns: waking up early, before the house is awake, and getting my writing down now.
I can say “now” as I’m writing this since it’s still only 6:45 AM and I’ve already woken (which, for anyone who knows me, knows is a slow process in the morning), made coffee, fed the cats, and perused the day’s news headlines online. We still get a newspaper delivered to our house every day too. I sometimes wonder why, since I rarely read an entire article out of the delivered newspaper; it’s the local rag-sheet (as my grandfather used to say), and getting it makes me feel more connected to the community somehow: something with which I’ve struggled lately, but that’s another posting.
So here’s to hoping I can build this momentum up to maintain this morning writing regiment. I wouldn’t call it a routine, yet, it still feels so much like work, but maybe that’s part of the rest of life never really letting go of its grip on me.