There’s a theory that rainy days help simmer an anxious mind. I couldn’t agree more…
She sat at the dining table, makeshift office setup directly in front of her. The words came less easily these days. Worry, an anxious mind and racing thoughts had taken their place. Literature, vocabulary and grammatical prowess had been formally evicted to make way for horrible new tenants that tore at her mind and ripped at her soul.
The swirling anxieties rushed about like a cyclone in full force, deftly sweeping any form of focus or creativity from her clutching, nimble grasp. She stared down the computer screen, fingers itching to type, willing herself to just create a simple sentence. One sentence. It’s not that hard.
She wrote a sentence. Four words.
No. It didn’t come out at all the way she’d imagined. The taunting clatter of the backspace key echoed across her already decrepit psyche.
Why couldn’t she just write the words the way they so desperately begged to be written? Why did they swim so effortlessly across her mind’s eye, only to drown like a leaf being sucked deep into the heart of a whirlpool when it came time to share them with the world?
Suddenly, a different clatter arose. The ‘pitter patter’ of rain of the rooftop. The rustling of trees as a gentle breeze made it’s way through the street. She breathed in deep and stared over the top of her monitor a while, through the window, into the dampening atmosphere outside. Her synapses snapped with an electricity she’d not felt in a long, long time.
She breathed in once more, the smell of rain coming alive in her body. Her mind cleared. She was free…for now.
And she wrote…