I feel like I’m learning to walk again.

My creative life was in stagnation for a long time before my sister’s death. Too tired from work, too burned out from the volunteering, and all the other excuses I kept telling myself until I believed them. But losing her really kicked me in the ass. I don’t think it was anything to do with a sense of mortality, although it could be that. Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve missed the flamingly obvious.

It’s more like I feel the need to stop allowing those excuses to bounce around inside my skull. It’s time I got off my ass and started making myself do creative stuff again. Fake it until you make it, or something like that.

I’m not the same as I was before Gloria died. I think somewhere along the line, I got scared of something. Scared of what, I don’t really know. But I pulled back my writing into myself and stopped looking outward. Stopped trying to share it.

It’s just a lousy habit I got into. Like every writer, I have a healthy ego and I want to hang it out there for people. But somewhere along the line I talked myself out of doing that.

I’m also rediscovering my love of walking. I started hiking a lot in college and did it for years, but thanks to grad school and then a car accident that left me with a messed up ankle for a couple of years, I got out of the habit. But now that it’s warming up, I’m lacing up my favorite boots and walking all over this very walkable city. I used to do mostly parks and forests, and I still like that, but I love walking around Annapolis. It was designed in an era when people did a lot of walking, so I guess it suits me. Plus that way I don’t have to go drive to walk (which always seemed a little odd to me).

When I walked a lot, The Complete Walker by Colin Fletcher was my bible. It’s a cross between gear fetish and philosophical tract. It really affected my sensibilities about not just walking but being prepared for life too.

Fletcher was a lone wolf, and preferred to do his walking alone, being self reliant on his gear, his knowledge and experience, and his wits (and his dry British wit) to survive. He taught me that being alone and self-reliant can be OK. It doesn’t mean you don’t like company along the way, or that you’re antisocial or phobic or anything negative. It just means that, if you like being alone sometimes, then go and be alone and enjoy it. And when you need company, seek it out and enjoy that, too.

So I’m making myself pick up my walking stick and head back out on the road. I’ve got a lot of writing miles left in me, and it’s about time I was on my way again.

Categorised as: Life the Universe and Everything

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