The Writer is down with a headache. Lying in bed, curtains drawn, cold pack on head, she grimaces in pain and frustration.
It was going so well! A beginning had been made but then ‘Bop!’ went the world. She’d hit her head on the upper fridge door handle and now she had a headache, blurry eyes, stiff and sore neck and a generally painful spine.
What is this, she wondered, some sort of karmic retribution for reaching for her dreams? The darkness that comes after the silver lining? Fate going, “Ha-ha, gotcha”? Seriously, just when the writing starts, something like this happens. How can one do any worthwhile work in this state? Was this another stop to have to go back to the never-ending series of beginnings? Was she always to be stuck in this beginning zone?
It was an unbearable thought.
Narrowing her eyes, gritting her teeth against the pain, the Writer sat up. ‘This can’t beat me, can’t push me back!’ she muttered.
‘Can’t beat me, can’t push me…’
‘Can’t beat, Can’t push!’
Chanting a sort of mantra she made her groggy, painful way to her desk and sat down to steady her senses. Sat still for a minute and then powered on her laptop.
She started by typing out the handwritten scenes from the day before, ignoring her throbbing head, the glaze over her eyes and her complaining spinal column. She stopped only for a few long breaths and a drink of water. Soon, as she grew absorbed in her work, the pain and discomfort receded.
The typing of the chapter was complete.
The writer rested awhile. In stillness, feeling filled with calmness and even more determination. Mellow afternoon heat, hinting at summer fullness, washed over her, streaming in from the window framing green and yellow. She stared out at the richness of the world. She nodded.
Words beckoned. Ideas danced.
She picked up a pen and began a new chapter.