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Sept. 21, 2004 I recently had an opportunity to speak with one of my good buddies from home. In an attempt on my part not to embarrass him I will refer to him by his nickname of Buffy. Buffy and I were engaged in one of those oh so familiar conversations when two good friends try and catch up months and months worth of time in a fifteen minute phone conversation. As daunting a task as this seems to be, I think we were able to effectively summarize our lives in a fashion that both of us were content. This particular conversation was of interest to me because Buffy commented on my writing. It was one of the pieces that I had written for this site as well. In all honesty the piece that he alluded to was the last installment of my “Story of a Boy” series. He wondered why I had not updated in quite some time. He also told me that he almost felt gypped as he read the article because of the abrupt ending. I promised him that I would sit back down and try to correct this and make the situation right. I have had a great many experiences since I last sat down to communicate with you all. Usually just having a singular event in my life occur is enough for me to spurt off a rant with no problem at all. For some reason though, lately I have not been so fortunate. There surely has been no lack of events that usually move me to commit words to paper. In fact there has been an abundance of those instances. My problem has been that I have not been able to receive those events and make sense of them. I can only equate this feeling with what happens to an individual when they drink a Slurpee too fast. I have been dealing with a serious episode of brain freeze. I always thought that writer’s block was a pitiful excuse that people used when they were too lazy to sit down and create. Now, I can say that at least for myself with amazing accuracy, that writer’s block does in fact exist. It seemed as though for a period of time that the synapses that once fired with reckless abandon in my head had hibernated and would remain dormant, until now. I began to ponder this feeling that I was grappling with on a day-to-day basis and came to a realization that this feeling was not something that was unique to me. It seemed to me that the frustration that had enveloped my soul and made me reluctant to sit at my computer was not a feeling that only I had dealt with. People deal with similar plights on a day-to-day basis, but for brevity’s sake I will speak of only a few that were at the forefront of my memory. Before I engage in a conversation about people that have experienced the same type of frustration as me, I think it would be beneficial to illuminate exactly what is at play in situations like mine, as far as I can tell. It seems to me that if you practice a given task a lot with that practice you get better and better. This seems like a fair cause and effect model. The time you dedicate to a certain task usually pays off with the effect of you becoming more proficient at said task. I also believe that the next thing that follows is that you have in your mind and heart an accurate idea of how good you personally are at performing that task. If you have ran a five-minute mile before, you realize that your body is capable of achieving that feat if you dedicate yourself to accomplishing it. This knowledge about what one is capable of seems to serve as the foundation for this inner disturbance. It seems as though that there are times when no matter how hard you try and whatever lengths you go through that you can not accomplish a feat. I imagine there are a plethora of reasons why this happens to people, but the frequency with which it happens to others never really mattered to me until I went through the same predicament. The first example that occurred to me was that of a young child that is the star of his little league team who wants to give up baseball forever because he goes into a slump. The child can not hit at all and would rather not play the sport again to avoid the depression of being unable to live up to the lofty expectations they have set for themselves. It seems as though this idea is somewhat juvenile in nature but it afflicts more mature people as well. Steve Sax who a professional baseball for many years played second base for the Yankees and Dodgers in the 80’s, got to a point where he was unable to make a routine toss from second to first in order to retire base runners. Steve had played the game his entire life and for whatever reasons could not complete the most basic and elementary task in the game. I guess my point is that people always arrive at obstacles that impede their progress in a variety of different ways. Down the road of life there are guaranteed to be many roadblocks. There will be times when you are not able to do things when you want to do them, or as well as you would like to do them for whatever reasons. I think the true test is how you over come this mini brain freezes. We have to assume that at some point in our lives there will actually come a time when we are not physically or mentally able to perform tasks we have become accustomed to performing. Perhaps these small periods of time where we feel inept or inadequate are windows into what the future would be like once all is truly lost. Maybe that’s the world’s cruel trick to prepare us all for old age, or our bodies giving up on us. I just know that it was a very frustrating thing to sit down at this computer and have nothing happen. There was no magic, and no glimmer of hope at all, no silver lining in that murky cloud. Then out of nowhere, it happened, I just sat down and as quickly as the wheels turned I was able to regain my form and create. I liken it to Milton’s Paradise Regained, because I had reestablished my own personal desideratum. So, what’s the moral I was just thinking to myself? I am sure there are quite a few adages I could throw out there; “never give up hope”, “It’s always darkest before the dawn”, “perseverance is the key”, “patience is a virtue”, and probably a myriad of others are also applicable. Personally I have heard all of those before and they have never held any weight at all to me. I think that actually going through the experience allows for you to see and truly understand and appreciate, what douche bags that come up with those axioms are getting at. I really don’t have a moral that I think applies more than others. I can only hope that this is a tool to help others ultimately realize that all is never lost, and to never feel like other people have not shared your pain. I guess at the very root of it though I am happy that I can write again, and I truly hope I don’t go through another “slump” I suppose. Well, I guess time will tell……. ------------ About the author: Jason Trace is a graduate of Michigan State University. Email Jason Trace: tracejas@msu.edu Tell a friend about this site! ------------ |
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