Inertia

Novelist Amy Sackville recently reflected in a story for The Guardian on how what sounded like a perfect occasion for creative writing has filled instead with vacancy. Sackville wrote, "I am not reading. I am not writing. This is not normal." The article went on to describe taking up new tasks only to lay them down before they were done.

...In the last weeks I’ve taken up, and put aside, woodcutting, drawing, German. I’ve cooked and painted walls and baked. Several weeks in, I caved and made a sourdough starter. (It really does seem miraculous, the raising of bread, though I won’t go on about it.) Watched the lilac, then the climbing rose, then the honeysuckle bloom. Planted sweet peas and watched them sprout. I know I am fortunate. Sat in the small, overlooked garden, for which I’ve never been more grateful, with a book unread in my lap, picking up and putting down my phone, listening to building works and the radios of neighbors, staring into this fragrant, sunny, confined space. I can’t settle to anything.

And I thought, YES! Exactly! I feel like I've been blessed with this incredible gift - time - and I am squandering it. I could be developing my drawing skills, my painting skills, I could be making; after all, I do have a list of commissions just waiting for me. And yet, when I do manage to make it into the studio I find myself just standing there thinking, why bother?

This state of inertia then brings on waves of guilt that I am not making better use of my time. I know I'm not alone in this weird state of being, that many of us are struggling to create. If you have found a good way around this suspended state, I'd love to hear from you. Take care, wash your hands, wear your mask. The life you save may be that of your parent, grandparent, or neighbor.