An Analogy of the Writing Process

I smile at the thoughts, before anything ever happens. I close my eyes and I can see the scene play out before me. I start watching the clock just as the morning gives way to the afternoon. The steady and predictable movements of the second hand give my eyes something to pay attention to because my mind is racing. There is no rhyme or reason, no sense of fast or slow, so the clock becomes my meditative focal point. Telephones are ringing, people are talking, and deadlines are looming overhead. All of this attempt to distract me by overwhelming me.

Car horns blaring, people cursing, pedestrians moseying across the street. The longing grows and I tap my fingers on the steering wheel. I turn on the radio, and then turn it off, again. I smile at the thought of the text message I received, whetting my appetite further. The temptation to re-read it is great, but I resist. There is little safety in going back, when there is so much left to do; so much further to go.

With just one more corner to turn, a gentle rain begins to fall. I smile. It is just like the clock, this afternoon. It provides a sense of staccato, keeping time for me. This should not be rushed. The raindrops roll down the windshield creating patterns that could obscure my view. I turn on the window wipers. I need to focus and the sound is enough. The water sloshes to the side of the window and slide off the side of the car. When I pull the car into the garage, I can smell dinner cooking. I sit back and allow the aroma fill my nostrils; steak and potatoes. It would seem that it would be too much to indulge in with the after dinner plans requiring so much energy. Not for us. We need the sustenance. We are giving ourselves what we need to do what we desire; what we have longed for all day long. The anticipation is part of the success.

The table has been wiped clean and the dishes are put away. Total attention can be paid to the way we choose to end our day. He takes my hand. It’s warm, and so am I. We turn off the lights and start the assent of the stairs and the descent to the bed. Yes, this was worth the wait. It was worth the distractions and the wading through the water. It was worth the preparation of a good meal and the putting away of the dishes. It was worth it to see his smile. It was worth it for him to see mine. Climax…round one.