Lately, I feel reluctant.  Reluctant to start anything, reluctant to change anything.  I feel like the snail.  I have a thin shell that is holding me in and the world out.  I withdraw quietly, easily, pretending that I was never there in the first place.  Ask me a question and you will find me buried within myself. 

All of us have things that we are good at.  I’m good at withdrawing.  My life has several well placed and well worn emergency breaks.  I can show them to you, but you really don’t want to know. 

Recently, I’ve been working on more prose-poetry.  That is where the little posts about what people are searching for are all about.  This has led me into working on fiction more.  My protatonist is quiet and withdrawn, but she is not me.  She has an understanding and an earthly quality to her.  I’ve been carrying her around.  One of my odd little tendencies when writing fiction comes from my days acting.  I used to go places where no one knew me and try my characters out.  I once wrote a story about a man who worked in a crematorium feeding bodies into the fire.  The stigma of his job was a part of the story.  So, I visited a friend in New York and went to a bar and told people that that is what I do just to see their reactions.  I got a lot of double takes paired with, “really?!”

But right now I feel reluctant.  I’m stalling.  Like a car sputtering under a red light.  There are other cars waiting behind me.  A friendly person stops to ask if I need help.  But I am still stalled. 

Today, one of my clients was sanctioned for not taking a job.  The job that was left behind payed a lot more than I make, and a part of my job is to listen to this individual bitch about how this job didn’t pay enough.  He gets online and starts reading off the salaries of other jobs that are posted there.  They are in the high 50’s and 60’s.  He thinks he should have one of these jobs.  My father, who has been working for 30+ years, doesn’t make that much. 

And so I am frustrated and stalling.  I’m thinking.  There are things I don’t need time to think about.  I’ll let you know what those are when I know.


Filed under Frustrations and Rants, lust and love, Musings, poetry, work, writing

2 responses to “Reluctance

  1. Great post, so honest. Most creative people are like this, especially writers. It’s a badge, wear it proudly.

    I like your approach to writing character. I’ve taken some acting, but am way to shy to pull that off. I wish I could do it.

  2. “All of us have things that we are good at. I’m good at withdrawing.”

    I think we’re all good at that, and I think it’s occasionally necessary.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s