My computer is crammed and cramped with a year’s production and my output has slowed for the past two days. I’m being hypnotized by the little color wheel turning and turning endlessly as it processes my searches, my photographs, and my uploads. Screaming hasn’t helped so I decided to get help.
I’ve reached a point where I want to step out of my past: drop it to the ground, and walk on. I’m feeling a balance that helps me realize moving all this “stuff”* to another place, or trying to control what’s going on within and without is vain and bootless. “Stuff” being outmoded ways of thinking and seeing. No matter what’s going on around me my focus needs to be as sharp as my camera lens. I can bloom among weeds. I can grow in the direction I desire.
It’s too easy to give up and do something else: for me that’s one direct route and a quick escape to chaos. As well as my vision and insight I need to coach and exercise my ongoing thinking.
It’s important to avoid ruts, tiredness, distractions*. It’s here that I haven’t taken my own advice originally written in 2001. I find I am still staying up 20 hours a day trying to jam everything and every think into the minutes as they tick but won’t tock. I’m up, talking for them. I re-connect to the road I’m driving on now. To experience a prodigious trip I need to feel fresh, pay attention, and stop for breaks along the way. Driving to my new destination means I need to reference a map now and then to see where I am.
Being artists, and certainly as writers, we are always searching for fresh ways to express ourselves. My lethargic computer is a good example of too much in too little space. Ten days into 2010 opens a vacancy in my calendar for clearing and cleaning up. The weather’s wet outside, my surroundings are glowing warm and comforting. There are new books on my shelves and in low-rise piles around the hardwood floor*. Yes, it’s real oak hardwood because the apartment is almost 50 years old. My friends and family are looking anew at their lives and spawning inspiration.
I’m fortunate and I know it. I will take the time to rid my computer of old programs and let it be a metaphor for my personal growth. When Spring delivers fresh buds across the landscape I’ll be out in the elements enjoying every breath of sunshine; relaxed and surrounded by a more natural understanding of the inner search and ever more courageous in the passage. Fear of ‘letting go’ has been tamed once again.
In her book, ‘Writing Down the Bones’, Natalie Goldberg tells us to, “…continue under all circumstances. Look for the new moment.”
“Flip the mattress, it’s not that heavy.” N.R. Rigets
Copyright © 2010 Nicole Rigets