Wednesday, July 12, 2017
Sometimes We Struggle - Yet Sometimes We FLY
10:54AM. That's what time it was before I looked at the tiny clock in the corner of my laptop screen and realized it was well past the "I'm just going to get online for a few minutes and update my pages" zone. I wasn't even wasting time playing on Pinterest or Googling craft ideas or fabulous vacation homes; I was WRITING - real words - the kind that when assembled together correctly - create complete and well-defined sentences. I was replying to comments about small business and then adding thoughts to a previous blog post discussing the value of spending locally. I was making the case for a principle of economics; posting concise directions for a social media infographic I'd created; answering questions in a forum discussion from yesterday. I saw an announcement for upcoming events, quickly wrote an invitation for a select group of individuals and posted a blog update for a client - and all this without having to backspace sixteen times to reformat what was in my brain. I was ON IT, humming along and cranking tasks out - because the familiar sense of "being stuck on what to do or say" hadn't yet surfaced and I was still free for a little longer. For once, it was all falling into place for just a couple of hours, and in that couple of hours I could fly, soar, and hover above the struggle of everyday life as I know it.
I struggle a lot and often; battling to stay focused and finding the right things to say or type; grasping for the moments of productivity that fly by me, hoping to catch at least a few which aren't so painfully difficult. I wonder if success is perhaps a fleeting glimpse of what other people get to experience on a regular basis? No one else tells me if they fight constantly to keep up and wrestle with these challenges that I know so well - maybe they do have those stumbling blocks and don't want to admit it - or maybe they rarely experience such frustration at all. That's what I think when everything feels hopeless, that I'm "just different". It might be me, I tell myself, since I'm keenly aware of my differences and peculiarities; accustomed to the ways of operating and coping methods that I must follow to achieve the best results for work situations - and yet I wonder if maybe some people live free from such challenges.
When you've been chasing optimum performance as a precious gift your whole life, never able to count on clarity or clear thinking, not taking for granted the ability to function, then you KNOW when you've struck gold and have found yourself in the zone of productivity - and you know it might be gone at any minute. You're painfully aware that in an instant you may be tapping your forehead searching for the right word, searching the screen for the detail you left out, missing the essential signs and indications shrouded in fog that you'll barrel right past; you KNOW that these precious and few moments when it all clicks are like rainbows that cannot be held or saved or preserved. And since Monday morning of this week I've been fighting to make it all work; stopping continually to write something down before I forget; losing my train of thought while writing sentences; repeating over and over again the failures and misspellings; backspacing to correct errors. It had been, by most measures, the start of a normal week for me.
And then there was TODAY - this morning, completely unexplained and impossible to script - a cloud of sweetness and relief that washed over me as material and words dripped off my fingertips. Minutes and hours began to slip into a mirage built from silence and peace, as everything faded from my stream of consciousness and left me in peace to just work without a hundred errors or mistakes - and while I was there in that place, something that shined down was magic and that magic was in me. The sinking realization of how long I'd been sitting here came into focus at 10:54 and reluctantly I pried myself away to the other tasks which needed my attention - and a late shower which I'd put off earlier in my eagerness to get over to my computer. An hour later, my mind is still back there in that sweet spot, running on with ideas and concepts, but the landscape of possibility that stretched out in front me is now clouded over, and murky. Those moments of ease; of churning out material effortlessly; the chances of being able to recapture what I had just savored; are gone. Time, coherent thoughts, and the ability to weave the three together, were slipping through my fingers and I found myself left once again in the mist, in a place where suddenly I can no longer see my way.