Writers block and self-doubt have been the death of my posting this past week. At first, the excuse was, “there’s no time,” then it turned to, “this entry is a public portrayal of my stupidity,” and finally, “whatever progress I have made should be deleted into Word Processing oblivion.” Frustration and self-centered fear effectively put an end to a passion I just reunited with—writing.
As a professional quitter with newfound awareness I can see that this slow progression of neglect is the telltale sign of resignation. This shouldn’t be the end-all just because I’m worried about what readers think or don’t think. My final consensus is that giving up now equal’s old behavior. Giving up would squash my brief hope of helping others and only perpetuate my raging pity party. If I tell myself I can’t move forward then I won’t; the confidence I’ve gained will be euthanized with the abandonment of this blog. So, my consensus…I’m going to start writing with whatever steam of consciousness floats from my mind through my fingers to the keyboard. I might not even reread before posting. Here we go. (Mario voice).
Woke up at 6am with alacrity and jumped into the routine, (I can’t believe I have a routine). I asked my HP for a path to delight the world with kindness, compassion, and grace, ate two bowls of cereal, grabbed an apple to-go, and got to Miss Anonymous’s house at 7:20 on the dot. “Miss Anonymous” being the 10-year old who I see off to school each weekday.
This girl must wind up each night and literally spring out of bed in the morning because before I’ve even parked my truck she is out of the house, running/hopping barefoot to my window and yells, “BOO!” right as I’m stepping out; like maybe this time I missed the massive mound of blonde bedhead hair jetting out the door, or failed to notice her neon pink pajama pants, and she has a chance of catching me off guard this time.
Acting surprised anyway we both charge inside like the running of the bulls. After eggs for breakfast flipped and fried to perfection, (I’ve learned so much), PJ’s and bare feet were swapped for sneakers and school clothes; we went outside to play basketball. We play HORSE or PIG depending on how much time we spend memorizing flashcards for math or making a mess out of the kitchen. Either way the game typically results in a lot of laughing and chasing my dog who is chasing the basketball. Neither of us is exactly amazing.
This morning as she lined up to shoot she said in a defeatist tone, “I’m not going to make this,” and she didn’t. Picking up the ball before my dog could, I bounced it to her.
“Well not with that attitude. This time tell yourself you can before you take the shot.” I offered encouragingly.
Shooting me a dubious but fine-I’ll-do-it look, she positioned herself and said, “I’m going to make this.” Swoosh. Nothin’ but net. Her whole 60lb frame pivoted toward me with a countenance skewed in complete surprise. “Ohmygosh” she said all in one word, grabbed the basketball, and said this time with more confidence, “I’m going to make this.” The ball effortlessly fell right through the hoop. Three times, four times, by the sixth swoosh, admittedly even I was taken aback. Needless to say, she slayed me in HORSE. There were OHHH’s and macho-man-muscle flexes from both of us until it was time to head to school.
“One more!” She said totally out of breath and amped, “I’m going to make this!” The ball hit the backboard and bounced to the side.
“You’re all revved up,” I said, “take a deep breath and try again.”
Actually taking my advice, (weird), she closed her eyes, took a deep breath, opened them, and said with such conviction I almost wanted to laugh, “I’m going to make this.” Woosh, no biggie, all it took was a quick regroup. It was a victorious drive to school. We high fived, she ran out and I drove to work thinking, there’s a real lesson in here somewhere.
The message is unmistakable and cliché but one that I am so quick to forget: the power of a positive attitude. My thoughts run so quickly in the wrong direction that thinking positively falls completely out of reach. There are hundreds if not thousands of quotes offered by those who have practiced this way of life. What I told Miss. Anonymous this morning is what I need to tell myself. Like writing this post!! Wow, full circle. At the beginning of this entry I acknowledged the negativity that plagued my mind, which blocked moving forward; I think I was almost moving backwards. All it took was sitting down, letting a little light of optimism in, and it’s back. Swoosh…Crap. This totally sounds like a long winded advertisement for Nike.