Inspirational Creative Advice

While this blog is primarily my personal writing, there is also listed "stuff." Presently, the stuff listed is "professional," yet, when beginning this blog I'd originally promised also writerly stuff, so I'm happy to finally offer just that. 

In “WritingInspiration,” I mentioned a few blogs that have succeeded in making my fingers itch to write again, and I added them to my blogroll: Jeff Goins and The WritePractice. I hope you take a moment, as a favor to your writer-self, to visit their sites.

Today, The Write Practice posted a piece from Pick The Brain, written by a Corey Allen. The Write Practice titled it “Stop Being So Busy.” Today was the perfect day to read it although, unfortunately, I didn’t heed it very well. It is exactly my struggle of late.

Stop being so busy.

Busy is the enemy of Art.

Busy is the avoid­ance of Pain, and Pain is the only way to grow.

Art comes from Pain.

Busy kills productivity.

You will never be happy when you are Busy. But you will never be sad either.

Busy, like all drugs, can become an escape. It will always end in failure.

Be where your butt is, where your feet are. Be with your fin­gers and in the lin­ing of your Lungs: Going in. Going out. Your shoul­ders relax­ing into the world.

  

This entire list is painstakingly true. Yet, how many of us continue down the same path? I know I am 100% guilty.

My plan for this Sunday was to do nothing laborious except to clean the chicken coop, sweep and mop the house, then work on blog posts, and two chapbook manuscripts to submit.

“Busy, like drugs, can become an escape.”

I fed the chickens and instead of sticking to the plan, instead of cleaning the coop, I decided to rebuild and mount the feeder. When the screw gun failed to drive the screws, I tried the hammer, then I tried to drill the holes first (but the screw gun wouldn’t drive the drill either), and then I tried nails before giving up on that. Then I decided to build the chicken run since it was a cool, breezy day – perfect for manual labor.

I tried to drive the wood posts in first, then dug a hole and tried again. Then I decided to use thinner stakes, so repeated the whole process. It’s important to unerstand that the red clay here is extremely difficult to work in and every other foot is either a tree root or shale rock. After finally getting two posts staked solidly, I began to wrap the chicken wire. Suffice it to say that the ordeal ended not in a fenced area, rather tears.

Three unintended hours later, sore muscles, aggravation and frustration, and conceding defeat, I sit here without a single desire to go on, either in the field or on the keyboard. Thankfully, I am pushing through for at least the blog posts with hope that it will help another.

Be where your butt is, where your feet are. Be with your fin­gers and in the lin­ing of your Lungs: Going in. Going out. Your shoul­ders relax­ing into the world.