It’s my writing night. My first one in a long time. So I spent too much time buying a new notebook and settled into a cafe that doesn’t have wifi. I ordered the tea for here, in case I feel the urge to flee. I can at least commit until I’m done with the tea. Or until it goes cold. Whichever happens first. I haven’t had a writing night in too long. Instead of falling into routine, I’m fighting myself.
What should I write? I have a list of blog posts to write. I should work on those. I should schedule some posts. Get ahead. BlogHer is next week. I’m terrible at blogging at conferences. Blogging every day is extra exhausting when I think about it too much like this. I should stop that.
I should probably stop saying should so much.
Walking by the window, they’re carrying yoga mats and bike helmets. They laugh in the summer air. Must be something she said.
I was writing all those poems. Filling notebooks. Then the words stopped coming. I probably got scared. That’s what happens to poetry. It goes too deep. It digs into the space where the mystery of fear and beauty collide. It’s too easy to run from that space. I probably ran from that space. I’ll go back. Soon. But not tonight.
I probably say yes too much.
Cars stop at crosswalks for those carrying messenger bags and ice cream. He holds an umbrella for the rain that never came. A young father carries a sleeping baby. You can see the tired on their faces. In their creases.
I write because I have to. Because I can’t stop. The words keep coming as long as I let them. As long as I give them enough room to work through a few notebooks, this blog, or in all the other spaces my words find themselves. The words are never blocked. It’s just that space that gets blocked. When the fear comes in. Or the time. Or probably. And yes.
My tea is both cold and nearly gone now. The women next to me talk quietly, but I hear their tone. I hear how they see each other. The music carries my feet beneath me.
My words pour out. Just like they always do. I just needed to give them the space to begin. I just need to give myself that space to begin.