The clock ticked. I flinched. Every second that went by seemed to mock the passage of time. The fountain pen rested in my hand as ink slowly seeped out of its sharp, silver tip. Even the pen declared that it was running out of patience. The paper was blank. Words were stuck.
Frustrated, I lifted my head and took a deep breath. The scent of the small lavender plant on the corner of my simple wood writing desk was calming. The afternoon sun, shining through the window, was warm against my face. Finding comfort in the warmth, I watched my children play in the yard. They lifted their heads in laughter as they all played together. With a smile, I welcomed the distraction.
I saw a princess having tea with the knight who saved the queen. Then my daughter, tired of having tea, pretended to be a mother singing her baby doll to sleep in the swing. Quickly, my eyes darted to the other end of the yard. Sitting, now slightly on the edge of my seat, I watched my son climb his favorite tree carrying a long stick. He shouted, while swinging his stick, pretending to be a pirate on a ship. Their lives, so simple and free, were flooding with play-filled imagination. I witnessed stories I had seen many times before being scripted by my children, but here I sat, without a word written.
The clock ticked. I flinched. Another hour had passed by.
I must start somewhere, I thought. I looked around the room in search of the time. How long has it been? I wondered. Books were out of their shelves, having been tossed on the repurposed antique chair. Finding the small clock on the side table near the chair, I squinted to see the time. Three o’clock. I had to focus. Maybe inspiration will come. Here’s to dreaming, I thought as I sipped some warm water.
I placed the fountain pen on the paper and a small drop of ink spread into its fibers. My hand moved quickly while writing, “Inspiration” at the top of the page. Closing my eyes, I searched my memory in hopes of finding an idea I had previously tucked away. A few ideas came to mind. But they all failed inspection and were mentally stamped with rejection. This added to the impending feeling that, this time, I really had lost my inspiration.
Suddenly, the door flung open, smashing into the bookshelf with a loud crash.
“Come and play, Mommy.” My youngest daughter said, as she grabbed my face turning my head. Her eyes were delightful and inviting, unlike the void stare of the blank blue-lined sheet of paper.
“Mommy has work to do. I wish I could join you. But I have to write something.”
“Here, let me help.” She boldly grabbed the pen that was resting in my hand, not caring to hear if I had any objection. Her small hand made a fist around the pen. It was a bit heavier than her favorite pink pencil she was used to writing with. She struggled to keep the pen steady in her hand. The weight of the pen caused every letter she scribbled to wiggle. Lifting the pen, she joyfully beamed. Revealing her innocence, SUMTHIN was written across the page. “All done! That wasn’t hard, Mommy. Time to play with me.” I laughed. With wide eyes and a smile, she took my hand knowing she had my undivided attention.
We laughed our way to floor where we became gorillas beneath a canopy of leaves. Then we made our way through the forest, jumping from one rock to another, until every piece of furniture had been given a part in our adventure. The books, having fallen off the chair, became the rocks we needed to escape the lava and rescue the baby doll.
The clock ticked. I grinned. The pen and the paper lay on the desk, no longer binding me with stress. The ticking of the clock stopped hassling me. It was in that moment, playing with my daughter, that I knew I had re-discovered my inspiration.
P.S.
I hope you enjoyed this short story. Maybe you have not experienced writers block, but have found yourself feeling as if your dreams are far away. Maybe you have forgotten why you started in the first place. If you feel discouraged or feel like giving up, lift up your eyes and find, once again, your inspiration and RUN!
So I say to my soul, "Don't be discouraged. Don't be disturbed. For I know my God will breakthrough for me." Then I'll have plenty of reasons to praise him all over again. Yes, living before his face is my saving grace! Pslams 42:11
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