Can Running Help Me Fall Back In Love With Writing?
āIf running creates a void, then writing fills it.ā
--
I canāt seem to write recently. Other than my newsletter and a few bits of journalism here and there ā which can hardly be called ācreative writingā and falls more under the bracket of ātechnical writingā or āreportingā ā I havenāt written anything in months.
To say that it freaks me out would be an understatement.
I was always the one to support Seth Godin who said things like: āThereās no writerās block just as thereās no talkerās block. You show up and write.ā But then, I feel so agitated on some days, I donāt even want to talk. So perhaps there is writerās block as much as talkerās block. Sorry about that, Seth.
Still, what I used to think of as āwriterās blockā wasnāt a block at all ā it was laziness, which is fairly easy to fight with willpower (and which I did). This time, however, it feels less like that and more like complete and utter paralysis. I have no trouble sitting in front of a computer and opening a blank page. I have no trouble writing a sentence or two. I am not terrified of the blank page, as many writers claim to be when they have a block. I donāt see the point in writing. There isnāt anything I want to say. Or maybe there is, deep underneath the rocks of my subconscious ā a water well I could mine for and find its source ā but itās too much trouble, and Iād rather not. Here, I said it.
And it bums me out. Because if I donāt have writing, then I pretty much have nothing. (Of course, I have family, friends, a job, and my readers, but thatās different.) Writing has always been this anchor to hold me in bad and good times. In a way, you could say I was married to it. (āIn sickness and in health.ā) But now weāre avoiding each other, and thereās this passive-aggressive cloud above us. We are like a middle-aged couple that should have pulled the pin on the relationship a while back but is still holding on, primarily out of inertia and habit.
So, like the stereotypical man in the most classic situation, I did the obvious thing: I started an affair with an old flame. Which, for me, has always been running.
Spring recently came to London and decided to stay. There were a few bad days āā¦