Apology

Apology It has been a busy week. Not wild, but very, very busy. It seems that, since my heart attack on February 6, my time has not truly been my own – though I am grateful for the time! Whoever might own it! Still, I have had little or no time to write and especially to polish my words into a blog or a poem. As short as those forms might be, they still need a concentrated dose of time to do them justice. So I apologize: this is April, which is Poetry Month. During which we are encouraged to write and post a poem a day on whatever website we prefer; I have some catching up to do. As to the blog, I sort of promised myself not to let such huge gaps occur between entries and, again, I have slipped from the path. The hardest part is getting started. It always is. I have talked about distractions in the past (often, being often distracted). Being busy is a major distraction. My mother used to say, “If you need something done, find a busy man.” He will find the time, he will find a way. But the truth is, having a busy schedule wrecks the mood. It is positively daunting to sit down at the keyboard to write even a short piece like this one, knowing you have to leave for therapy mid-day (which includes a forty minute drive each way), or prepare and enjoy dinner soon after you get back home. By then, tired, you begin to think about tomorrow. I know, this sounds like an excuse as I read it back. If you remember from an earlier blog, excuses are often welcome in a writer’s garret. We open the door when they knock, invite them in, offer them coffee, and bemoan to them our fate that we just can’t seem to find a good solid block of time to get started. And then there are the novels I plan to write, long term commitments that might or might not turn out. Writing a novel is like committing to a relationship, fraught with the fear that you will disappoint. And that is a heck of an excuse. So all I need now is to get started, and all I need for that is a solid block of time. Oh, wait, dinner’s ready.