Belt out the booming foghorn, the sea is becalmed, the fog has drifted in, the sails have been lowered and the old vessel has almost come to a standstill. It’s not always easy negotiating a way forward when you’re not sure which direction is the right one. For me it’s writing, for others it could be any one of a number of creative pursuits or career paths or whatever.
There may be no literal rocks looming in these uncharted waters, no sandbars on which to run aground, but the metaphorical ones are just as clever at bringing things to a grinding halt and shedding doubt on any glimmer of hope I might have had of producing anything other than this little missive.
Where’s a lighthouse when you need one, with its bright beacon shedding light on all the obstacles, showing the way forward and giving you something to aim for. Self doubt can be a crippling thing, and such a time waster I’ve found. In the time it takes to whip yourself for not applying your brain and engaging your mind and heart in something, anything towards your goal, you could’ve actually done something that moved you a little way forward at least.
Maybe that’s why I’m rabbitting on, raving just for the sake of it, in an attempt to crawl out of the little rut I’ve created for myself. I looked back at my very first blog entry, where I idealistically committed to writing every day, and have to admit to slacking off in that area. Nothing of value comes easy, and the dream of whipping up a best seller may look tempting, but making the dream a reality can be a nightmare.
So I take heart from the following words of wisdom from Garrison Keillor, taken from his novel Love Me:
Every writer I know is on a winding mountain road in the fog.
Writers like to think that writing is like Arctic exploration or flying the Atlantic solo but actually it's more like golf. You've got to go out and do it every day and live by the results. You can brood over it but in the end you've got to take the club out of the bag and take your swing.
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