“Is there no way out of the mind?” ― Sylvia Plath
Writing is a lot like running.
The other day I took a moment to consider why I push off writing especially when it is something I love doing. Whether that is me pushing off my reaction papers, captioning a post, working on my book, or journalling - I make sure I push off writing for as long as I can. It's silly and it doesn't make any sense. Even as I try to write this, I keep picking up my phone, to check notifications that aren't there.
During my high school years, I was involved in every sport imaginable and every single one required running. I hated conditioning, the dreaded 3+ mile run for cross country. In those moments, my body screamed that I couldn't continue (and many times it was right). The pounding of my feet quickly made it's way to my heart which then found it's way to my head. I would get the most insane earaches when running outside which was yet another way my body begged me to stop. Complaining aside, I loved the feeling immediately after. Taking those few minutes after a race to slow my breath, feel the dull ache in my muscles, and gradually feel a sense of accomplishment.
I made the connection that writing is a LOT like running - at least for me. It is kind of like muscle group I forget to exercise then I wonder why I feel so weak and tired. In the moment, my mind screams at me that writing the first word is impossible, too hard, and not worth trying. When I somehow write down the first few words, that's when the alarms start sounding. I think the process of writing is supposed to help organize my thoughts, giving me a space to sift through the mess. Instead, it's like a funnel - this wave of words, thoughts, and nonsense rushing towards a small opening (usually getting clogged in the process). This is when frustration enters in, increasing the volume of the YOU NEED TO CHECK YOUR PHONE AND STOP WRITING.
Sylvia Plath's quote, "Is there no way out of the mind?" felt like an okay way for me to connect both running and writing.
When hitting the treadmill, I experience an absurdly intense struggle between my mind begging me to stop and my body pushing through. When I write, my mind can become littered with distractions, doubts, etc. - making it difficult to start. So, 'Is there no way out of the mind?'
We can only say mind over matter so much. It loses its oomph as we ignore how real a mental block is especially when we want to do something we love and is good for us. (I'm beginning to say 'we' and 'us' too much instead of 'me' and 'I'................sorry lol).
I suppose it's a process. Getting into shape takes time, effort, and consistency. Building up endurance to run long distances takes patience. I guess I need to be okay with achieving small goals, being happy that I wrote a small blurb for my borderline nonexistent blog, or being okay with journaling once a week (I marvel at how I used to write every day?????). I feel as though most things can be compared to a muscle, and I guess this truly is no different.
This is 100 different shades of ridiculous and I truly am only giving myself a space to complain about how I allow procrastination to rule my life. I guess by allowing myself a space to connect a hard practice to another I've experienced, I am affirming how I feel (even if I am not agreeing completely).
Writing this now, it feels like I am on a jog. My lungs burn, my steps are heavy, and I am wondering why I even decided to try. Maybe there's a point, maybe not. Later down the road, maybe I'll get to look back and see that this was the first step towards increasing my endurance. Will I learn to love the whole process and not just the end result?
I actually don't know, but this was just me giving it another go.
H
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