I stared at the blinking cursor. Before me was a blank clean page, waiting for words. I typed a title and a sentence or two, then erased them. I tried a different topic with the same result. A clean page should be to a writer what a bone is to a dog– a great treat and an opportunity just waiting for one to do what comes naturally.
The page was still blank, save for the blinking cursor, when I walked away from the computer. I could think of nothing to say; nothing gelled. I picked up a piece of paper, hoping the feel of a pen between my fingers and my hand sliding across the page would provide the spark of inspiration I needed.
I have similar feelings about the New Year. We recently hung new calendars at our house, which are already filling up with work and personal commitments. These sorts of commitments represent the day-to-day spin of life. The year itself is still fresh and new, a blank slate upon which one can cast the goals and intentions of a fresh start. This concept is not lost on the merchants or the media, evidenced by the weight loss and organizational products lining the aisles at the local retail stores.
Two weeks later, I am back to the same sheet of paper, which has waited patiently at the end of the last paragraph for my return. I have such good intentions for this blog. I know that serious writers need to post regularly. I wrote recently that I will not sacrifice my writer’s passion, creativity, or personality because of what the experts say. I mean no disrespect to those who are subject matter experts or recognized masters of the craft. I just know that if I try to fit in a mold I’ll accomplish nothing more than to become moldy and stale.
As I write this, I am home from work because today is a Federal holiday. Today we remember a man who stood for his convictions, basing his life’s work on what he believed to be right and true. I see quotations from his speeches and works posted across social media, including one that has become a favorite of mine, relating faith to a staircase. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., took many steps on faith, which the Scripture he believed defines as, “the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.” He climbed his staircase with certainty. He couldn’t see the top, but he never faltered in his belief that he was climbing in the right direction.
Each of us has a staircase, a path to walk. Some make the climb with little notice, while others become well known during their journey. I believe the true measure of success is to climb well, to remain true to one’s calling. I love writing too much to sell my writer’s soul. And so I will climb at my own pace, in my own way, one stair at a time.
I hope you will look for me as you pass through.
Copyright 2017 Sherry Hathaway. All rights reserved.