How am I looking at productivity? With grace, or through the lens of the critic? Here’s an example of how my failed writing day (yesterday) can be reinterpreted as a beautiful and needful creative experience.
I couldn’t write because of the rain.
Hydrangeas from our yard. Photo by C. West
Dr. Codger’s View
At five a.m., a steady splat woke me to the placing of towels beneath a roof leak. I went back to sleep, but skipped my morning walk because of the downpour. I opted for an unfamiliar yoga class then rushed home for a meeting despite it being my writing day—I just got home from a trip. (The trip was intended for writing but mostly consisted of talking to writers and seeing beautiful nature places.) After the meeting, scrolling Instagram, I saw this video where you pour cottage cheese into a tortilla, break three eggs on top, add veggies, and make a frittata right in the pan. There’s no time like the present, so I went into the kitchen and replicated the recipe which came out runny and bland and needed fifteen more minutes in the oven but I ate it anyway. I was super tired (from Thursday’s dental work, rescheduled from the week before) so took a power nap but still felt powerless. Decided to go for a walk. Rummaged through the closet for long-unused rain gear. Returning home sopping, I noticed the hydrangeas nodding heavily into the mud and I rescued several blooms. At the kitchen counter, my houseplants needed watering so I took care of them too. In the bathroom, touched up my nail polish. Back in my tiny office, it was way too dark so I relocated to my bedroom, but first had to make the bed. Looked up to see my sweetheart hovering on the ladder outside the window working on the roof leak. With the roof temporarily patched, the feng shui felt wrong so I needed a candle. It looked lonesome, and really needed a silver candle holder, so I burrowed in a cupboard for it. Grabbed the silver polish and dabbed away its tarnish. By then I was hungry, so sliced up Swiss cheese, and afterward my teeth felt smudgy and I brushed them. I glanced at the clock. It was ten to five on a Friday. End of a workday, close of a workweek. My journal lay open on the cushion. It had been a very full day.
Dream Kid View
I got up early with the rain and its inevitable effects, and had time to prepare for a totally new yoga class. There, I had a conversation with a friend that just might result in a new writing space—thanks, A!
I enjoyed time with a client and could relate to the challenge she has sitting down to write. I experimented with a one-pan breakfast that needs work but holds potential. I tested my fall gear so I can be ready next time. I had a lovely walk, and admired cheery red mushrooms, like gnomish little persons.
I made an arrangement of dusky blue hydrangeas. I could be close by ensuring safety when my sweetheart climbed up on the roof for maintenance. I breathed in the scent of beeswax from my candle.
I rested best as I could. I burned off residual energy of traveling, meetings, and appointments. I ate well, took time out from objective writing, cleared the way for creating tomorrow. I’m an unpredictable being and can feel that. I appreciate the surprises and beauty surrounding me on this first of the rainy fall days.
