Last night I was awake from about 2-3am. I felt like I was going to crawl out of my skin. I could blame the Sudafed. I could blame the house temperature (I like to sleep in a cool room). I could blame life’s challenges at large.
Instead, I blame my book.
The truth is I’m in one of those “treading water” places, those spots where I keep eeking out words and research but don’t seem to be going anywhere really.
And I’m not good with the “a little bit every day” approach to life. I tend to be “all in,” and this book (probably all books) don’t work that way. They require eeking out.
But as I read a book of “wisdom” that a friend gave me just before Mom died, “the secret is acceptance.” I need to learn to just be okay with where I am in the process right now. I need to learn to be okay with my lack of direction in the book (and in life). I know this is where I am supposed to be. . . but I always want to be ten steps further than I am.
So last night, I heard God said, “Rest.” (I hear God say that a lot.) I laid in bed and breathed. I let the thoughts flow past like clouds, and at some point, I fell into one of those deep, sleeps that leave you confused when you wake. It was blissful.
Today, I will pour a few words on the page. I will devour a few hours with research. I will take a long way to the cemetery here on the farm. I will make hot fudge pudding cake. I will accept that this is today. I will see it as glorious.
Anyone else ever feel this way? About writing? About life? Do share your secrets for acceptance, please.