Funny. Every time I think I am going to do something one way in life, I end up doing it another way completely. Case in point: this post.
I know I know I know…How many times in LIFE can I apologize for the absence of TRUE LIFE? Turns out the answer is roughly equivalent to the age-old question, “How many licks does it take to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop?” Maybe I should take the wise, old owl’s advice and just crunch down on the damned thing once and for all. Cut it off–force an answer. Obliterate the question.
Yet, in order to do that, two things would seem requisite. First, I would need to eliminate my seemingly constant need to apologize for virtually every step I take in LIFE. The second would be to that I would need to actually post consistently in this blog.
Okay…but back to the unexpected unfolding of things. If you’ve heard this before (you have…don’t worry), please try to keep your eyes from rolling. I know, it’s hard. But I think about this blog every day, and I am constantly planning to write something in it. There are things every day that I think about sharing with you, TRUE LIFERS. I have no dearth of prospective content.
Yet…when’s the last time you saw a new post here? Exactly…
What happens–and yes…you’ve heard this one before, too. Just nod and smile and sing along. Everybody, now! What happens is somehow the things I want to say get too big in my head, and I freeze up. My fingers stiffen at the keyboard, paralyzed that I am going to be there forever trying to craft my tangled web of thoughts into some cohesive and coherent message.
“Umm…okay, Bill. But…aren’t you a writer? Isn’t that what you do?”
Yeah, yeah. Shut up. I get it.
I never claimed to be a good writer. Nor a prolific one. I merely claimed that when the rubber hits the road, I can sit in front of my little iBook and peck away with the best of ’em. Getting to the actual pecking, however, has always been somewhat tricky for me.
And I know why. It’s not a new realization. I am beginning to think that the repetition of this theme in my LIFE (an obvious allusion that I see connectivity to more aspects of my existence than just the writing one) is necessary to my owning the realization. “Hello! Realization knocking! Is anyone in there?” How many times does it need to knock before I answer? One day, I will take the wise old owl’s advice.
For now, I must be satisfied to identify the realization. Recognize it’s voice, its distinctively incessant knocking. Close my eyes and put shape around it.
What it looks like, which is this: I make things bigger than they really are, bigger than they need to be. And when I do that, they look bigger than me. And when they are bigger than me, I get scared. I wish I could say that in spite of getting scared I step forward and knock that big, old thing down–my David to its Goliath. I mean…sometimes I do. But more often than not–especially in the writing department–I drop my sling, turn tail, and scream off as fast as my little legs will take me. I leave Goliath there, shrugging, scratching his head as he watches the trail of dust kicked up by the beat of my footfalls.
Of course, I could solve this problem. I know a solution is there for me. And that, TRUE LIFERS, is part of the realization that provides a modicum of comfort. Because I know that there’s a way to win against old Goliath. I know that there’s a way past it, if I am willing to stand my ground.
And, of course, if I simply make things not so big in my head.
So…this morning. I am lying in a Super 8 Motel in Warroad, MN. You don’t know this, and shame on me for not sharing the good news. I am here–a mere hop, skip, and a jump from the Canadian border–for the best reasons. You may think “Where the hell is Warroad?” But the folks here are thinking, “We’re Hockeytown, USA!” And I am here on a scouting trip with the director of my new movie–yes, a movie I am getting paid to write!
Yes, TRUE LIFERS, I am working on another movie. More on that later.
For now, the day–not to mention Hockeytown, USA–is calling.