It's Just A Moment

I am day at 14 of my 21 days of writing, two thirds over the hump and for the first time, I feel reluctant to write, honestly reluctant to do anything. I am like a electrical plug sitting only half way into the socket, some of the power is going through but there is a general sense of uncertainty about everything I do. I woke this morning to a horrible anxiety dream, of rushing to get to an appointment while looking for part of my outfit and putting it on to find it is too tight and uncomfortable. The rest of the day has been spent climbing out of this dream, but being wound back into it against my will. I feel drenched in tiredness, heavy and leaden as if my limbs have been soaking in water. My throat is stuck and still like before you drop off to sleep in the car, and my actions have been like that jerking awake when the car trips over a pot hole.

My eight minutes are up, and I am ready to pack up and have a snooze, I am going to Yoga tonight and know I will have to drag myself there but will feel amazing when I am done. This is a special class, developed by a teacher who has a dancing background, it has a grace and sense of fluidity which is wonderful. The classes are held in a warehouse high above Chippendale with polished floors boards and long windows that look onto the city.

I am listening to U2 and in their eternal words ‘it’s just a moment, its time will pass’, I plan to restore the power tomorrow and write with more energy and intent