Posted by: syncopated1 | March 14, 2012

The moments that give me pause.

I have been sitting down to write for weeks now, and failing to do so. My time taken up with other pursuits (yoga, hiking (now that it is Spring), playing my banjo), I have allowed one of my favorite activities to fall severely by the wayside. I still have many mumblings and rumblings echoing throughout the vaults of my mind as I struggle to find a cohesive structure for presenting these ideas. And I am trying to find ways to incorporate my other recreational habits into my writing. Yoga offers clarity and focus with which to discipline myself and do the work I need to, hiking (which will soon be followed by biking and running and sailing and swimming! As the season unfolds anyway) naturally offers subject material. But the banjo so far only provides me with another, different, creative outlet. One that I feel has been vital to my survival this winter. I’ve noticed that a fair number of my last few posts got steadily darker as the winter “deepened” as much as it could this year.

The banjo, however, is an incredibly bright and rich sounding instrument that even when singing solemn Appalachian songs like “The Cuckoo” I find myself well and happy. None of this occurred to me until today, when playing my banjo and ruminating on a particularly tricky piece of fiction in my head I noticed that my discouragement over not writing was being bouyed by the music (which, for those that care, was a particularly shaky rendition of “Wagon Wheel,” a song about a man fleeing a Northern life to return to the land and the lady he loves).

A winter without snow in Maine is possibly the most depressing state of affair I can envision, but the each note I pluck offers bright sound and color. Almost as if to herald new buds on trees, sunlight in the sky, warm winds, and bring Spring in abundance into my life.

I’m ready.



  1. The steady inward pull of the winter is a natural cycle. In Chinese medicine, winter is appreciated for giving us that time of introspection, rest and reflection. Don’t be alarmed! I usually just use the time to pull out hidden thoughts one by one and examine them. But then spring does come along and infuses everyone and everything with creative and procreative energy, sending us bounding enthusiastically along muddy trails and shooting out of our homes like sprouts from the ground. (By the way, spring has sprung here in New Mexico, warmth, crocuses, sage turned from silver to green.)

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s


%d bloggers like this: