Old Western clichés and treading water

Do you all remember that classic Gene Autry song, Back in the Saddle Again?

That old Western tune has been playing in my head on a loop for the last hour, while I worked up my nerve, secretly, to come back here and sit with you, dear reader. My mind is full of old clichés like that; images of old cowboys and cowgirls in the saddles of tired horses, their dust-trodden leather boots grey and wrinkled, not unlike the hairs on their heads and the sun-drawn lines etched upon their faces.

I have accomplished much since I last spoke to you (and caught up on my sleep). Yet every night for the last week I’ve felt this pull on my heartstrings to sit at my desk and to tell you things. It felt so odd, not unlike being Alice in Wonderland, to consciously say no to such an urge and to forge onward with other tasks. But I’m glad to have had the break because it’s revived me back to myself again.

“…revived me back to myself again.”…

Had I gotten lost? Maybe a little.

Had I begun to forget who I was? Perhaps, in ways.

The most valuable insight I took from the contrast that resulted by plucking myself out of this new routine, was learning that having a daily practice of shared writing truly keeps me in line with all the other things I need and want to accomplish. It’s remarkable, actually. The knowledge that no matter what comes, I’m committed to sitting at my desk, morning and night, has this razor-sharp way of paring down what I think I need to accomplish to reveal what I actually need to accomplish.

I was certain that by removing the obligation to keep up my blog, I would free up all this time and space to really make some headway on the release of my new poetry book. But in actuality, it was somewhat like removing the dam. All that powerful water came rushing forward, spilling out in all directions. I have had so much energy this last week, but couldn’t always tell how or where to focus it. Going to the gym and sprinting out all this tension has been good for my body, but also necessary for my head.

Can I also just mention that launching anything new on your own is bound to involve a bit of mountain climbing?

It all sounded so tidy in my head; Publish and Share a Book of My Poems! All the boxes were clearly defined, ready and waiting to be checked off. But actually slogging through the to-do list has been just that; a slog. My book really is a one-woman show. Not necessarily because I didn’t want help. I guess I just felt excited to go through the motions and learn something new. 

I’d be fibbing if I said I didn’t feel like the water levels have risen over my head a time or two. 

It’s a good thing I’m decent at treading water, which is also to say that a really good conversation with my sister helped me to see that I can sit back every now and then, when I need to. No need to rush, no need to fight against an invisible deadline that only makes my chest tighten up when I find myself slogging on hands and knees through both attic and basement of my website, trying to sort out, for example, how best to receive all the good people’s money when pre-orders launch.

And oy vey, this is a ramble, indeed. Blame it on my excitement to return to you, this whopper of a project that’s been in my lap for far too many days now (head spinning from all the to-do’s, but still looking at making the pre-orders announcement next week), the sweltering heat that has us pinned down without a fighting chance here in Florida, and just all that general restlessness and maniacal joy that I can’t seem to be rid of these days.

Ah, yes. It’s good to be back.