Wednesday, August 14, 2013

Warning: If I Really Like You I Might Throw a Ball at Your Head

Today's clear skies, bright sun and cool breeze have soothed my soul and inspired me to write for the first time in a long time.  This summer has kept my body busy and my mind bustling, but the constant humidity has kept active creativity at bay.  Like many of you, the weather can affect me deeply.  I seem to write best in the winter when I am a bit moody and brooding.  The warmer weather wears me out, leaving me little mental energy to compose.

The artist in me wants to let go and allow myself to roll on the waves of whimsy my muse unfurls.  Time and space matter not in the creation of true delight!  The perfectionist in me is embarrassed that I have yet to set a hard schedule against which I write no matter what.  All of the little lemming letters must bow to my heavy handed quill!

So, listen up Right Brain and you, too, Left Brain.   Let's pump the brakes and get a long, shall we?  We are going to work together and get back to it, ya hear?

All summer, I have considered entering the annual "Life Lessons Essay Contest" sponsored by Real Simple magazine.  I feel I have a compelling answer to this year's question, "What is the bravest thing you have ever done?" and I know that the exercise of drafting the piece would be therapeutic regardless of the end result.  (In other words, I am not banking on winning the $3,000.)

But, let me be honest.  I can't just blame my lack of alliteration on the rain.  I fear I have literally become scared to write.  Yikes.  I really like writing.  I want to be a writer.  And right now my inclination is to throw a big red playground ball at writing's head and run away giggling.  Writing is not the bravest thing I have ever done.

Thankfully, summers usher in maturity and like new boobs on a teenager I am busting back into the blogosphere.  I'm going to look writing in the eye and say, "Hey there, wanna dance?"  And then I'll probably form my lips into some dumb pouty expression, stop to take a selfie and set myself back a few months.  But, who cares?  I am in love with writing and I don't care who knows!  Writing will be the bravest thing I have ever done.

I'm not going to write my essay about that, though, so don't worry I won't submit the word "boobs" to Real Simple (at least I don't think I will).  I'll get back to you with the actual essay answer soon.  It's due in mid-September, after all.

In the meantime, I am curious, what is the bravest thing you have ever done?


  1. Hey, I resemble that blog post title! ;p

    Bravest? Starting CurlyRed I guess. And with that trusting God that He'd make it work out since I didn't know what the heck I what doing.

    Welcome back, friend.

  2. I second the notion, welcome back, Kristin!

    The bravest thing I've ever done? Probably apologize for something agonizingly stupid, which I really wanted to pretend never happened. But I stood up and swallowed my pride.

    It didn't go down easy.

  3. Ok, this is a month and a half late, but I'm catching up on your posts :)
    If being brave is being scared to do something and doing it anyway, my bravest thing was telling my parents that Joe and I were getting married. I was 20 at the time. When I was still in school. And they hadn't really gotten to know him yet and so hadn't quite warmed up to him. Actually deciding to get married was as easy as falling asleep; I was confident that the time (and man) was right. It was an inevitable conversation, but I was shaking as I contemplated it, fearing their disapproval and the lecture that was sure to come. I timed it so my mom and I were making applesauce in the kitchen at home, hands busy peeling and coring. Kind of like having a difficult talk in the car so you don't have to look at one another. The kind of talk where you begin: "So.........." And once that word is out, the brave has begun.

    P.S. Best simile EVER.