Combine the first few weeks of school – with football and fall baseball, and a new daily schedule of drop-offs and pick-ups – and things can get weird. Throw in the “change of the weather” colds, and my muse heads for a quiet spot in the closet. First, there is the false start to Fall weather that tricks my sinuses every time. The few days of cooler weather before the heat returns with an air of condescendence as nature lets us know that it is not  Fall weather until she says it is Fall weather. Then about a week of hot weather that seems worse than the dog days of August since we were teased with cooler weather. This year much needed rain added humidity to the mix.

When the heat returns, my sinuses kick into overtime – not long before shutting down completely. This year Cyndy went on the journey with me. Cold-like symptoms persist for a week or longer, depending on the weather. We needed the rain, but our sinuses did not need the humidity. One day we will feel like we are getting better. Then the next day we seem to have regressed. My aunt Juanita passing away did not help my frame of mind and my sinuses took a hit with the cold to hot temperatures of the funeral and the gathering at her house afterwards.

My muse would leave the closet, reluctantly, when deadlines approached. Then he would retreat to the closet. I tried to coax him out the other evening when a song I heard on the radio led me to think of a song I wrote years ago. I remembered the tune of the first line of the chorus, but I could not think of the words. I pulled out some old notebooks of songs, poems, prose, ideas, and notes.

I failed to find the song I was looking for, but I found original versions of songs that turned out completely different. Parts of poem and songs that were not bad, but had led nowhere. Songs and poems that were good but forgotten. Upcoming posts will contain some of the gems I found. Reading through my old notebooks reminded me of past writing and inspired me to get back to productive writing.

What do you do to fight writer’s block? Read old writing and notes? Take a walk? What brings your muse out in the open and into action?

Peace be with you.

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