I grabbed my spiral notebook yesterday with the intention of writing something spectacular. The blank page pulsed with emptiness. After a few minutes, I wrote the word “Blocked” across the top, believing that by labeling my affliction, I would begin the process of overcoming it.
No other words followed. I left pen angled across the page, hoping that seeing the two paired together on the coffee table would trigger some inner well of creativity, and words would flow forth effortlessly.
I don’t know why my ideas and thoughts ram against this invisible wall. In my mind, I see them ebbing and flowing. I stand on a precipice, watching my words undulate in silent waves. They never reach the shore.
So this morning, instead of taking pen and paper in hand, I pull up Word. The curser’s insistent blink-blink-blink-blink challenges me. I type the single word, “Blocked” again, centered perfectly on the page.
And words push through the water’s rolling surface.
Copyright 2012 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman