Stalled Out

I love the way Portland smells during spring rain. Even in the busiest moment the nectar scents of summer’s advent can persuade the most productive membranes into a daydream.

Daydreaming has been a favorite pasttime of mine lately, see, I was lucky to have a brief window, a meager almost two years where I thought I had my life in order. What’s that saying, ‘as soon as you think you are where you want to be, you’re not there anymore.”

As soon as I thought that, it was gone. The universe has ways of throwing curve balls you’ll never expect, and heaters you could never negotiate. I like to think I’m becoming comfortable with the uncertainty, but even that strategy will somehow tease the tenacity right out of you.

I always lusted after the grand adventures, Indiana Jones, Robinson Crusoe, Ulysees, the things I dreamt of at night were always the stuff of legend, epic voyages of exploration. I got my wish, but in no way is it the sort of adventure I had spent my young years acting out in the backyard. Mine I suppose are exploits of a more introspective nature, of finding the bravery of a kind I never knew existed within me. Finding the courage to corral a life out of control on a pell mell trajectory.

I'm beginning to see that a big part of my journey is learning how to get out of my own way. (And realizing how complicated that can really be.) Realizing I've been on hiatus from writing, any serious writing anyway, for almost a year. It gets stopped up and comes spilling out at inopportune times reminding me that this is a calling I can not neglect.