My Sleeping Literary Mind

Do you ever feel like there is a part of you that is sleeping? It’s like deep down inside there is a part of you that is hibernating waiting for the warmth of spring to show itself. You know it’s there.

You can hear it breathing, but it’s still.

Dormant.

I’m sitting in my office right now at the desk you see to the left, waiting for a worship service this evening and I feel that way about writing. I know deep down inside that I’m supposed to write. Probably not today. Maybe not tomorrow. But at some point, I believe my literary mind will groggily awaken, yawn, and the process will begin.

But it’s frustrating. It’s almost like an out of body experience. I can see myself writing. I can hear myself mulling over the syntax and yet, when I actually go to write anything of any substance, I flat line and there is nothing…

I can’t wait for spring and the awakening of what I can only believe is an important part of who I’m supposed to be.