2/11/15 Stuck in Writing Exile

I cannot seem to get anything written, not because of the lack of desire to write, or an absence or words, but because there’s simply nothing that needs to be said. After forcing myself to fore-go politics, though I am passionate about politics, I have lost my desire to write about it. I would prefer to write to persuade, but no one really persuades anyone about political ideology…we merely get “Amens!” from those who already think like us and anger the rest. So much is written on politics that unless something comes along wherein I simply cannot contain myself, I will continue to let it lay, though I am not committed to that, nor is that a promise. I will write about whatever I want, but, I don’t seem to want to write about politics anymore.

I have several religious topics I want to write about, but the ones I have selected for myself have been started several times and seem to be exhaustively long. I lose interest in a subject after five or six pages. I have made several attempts, and will yet get these topics covered, but there is no rush. People have been contemplating Christian doctrine for a long time, and in reality, there is nothing much new that I am going to contribute in a world inhabited by St. Augustine, William Barclay, Karl Barth, and C.S. Lewis, though the passion to write about it seems no less. I just can’t wrap myself exactly around what I want to say, nor can I do so without devolving into a condemnation of Islamic extremism. I don’t want to write about Islam or the politics of Islam; others seem to be doing plenty of that.

There is not much in the way of music news to report, since I am playing very little music and have only recently had the desire to pick up a guitar. I could write about the state of the music industry and the how everyone wants to use one’s creative property for free, have you play live for free, all in the name of “exposure,” but I have already written about that and nothing much has changed.

I could write about my regular work, but that actual performance of that has been too exhausting as of late, and shows no signs of relenting. Now, that is not a complaint. I am thankful for that. There are about thirty people who need for me to do my job and do it well. They all have families, mortgages, and first one obligation then another. They need to work every day. It is my job to make sure that they have the work and what they need to do it with. Our work load has increased to the point that I have also taken to working with tools in the field. This is tremendously satisfying even if it is exhausting. I am thankful for every nut and bolt that I get to turn, thankful for every electron I help speed to its intended destination, and thankful for every customer I have the opportunity to serve.

I could write about this leukemia of mine, and the telltale signs I see sneaking back in while I am in the midst of a failing remission, but being locked into a “watch and wait” holding pattern typical of my disease, I’d be focusing on the wrong thing…not the time I am enjoying, but the time I spend in fear. I am choosing to fore-go the fear. That is easier said than done, but possible if one stays focused. Staying busy helps, and I have been busy. I go see Hemosapien for a checkup next week and then off to Gooday at the Big-as=Texas Cancer Center in Houston in May. If things start changing rapidly, I’ll have lots to write about, but that is a subject I’d rather steer clear of.

I have enjoyed target shooting and reloading. I look forward to getting home to my own pistol range just so I can shoot, pick up brass, then hurry off to reload the spent brass. There is a precision required in reloading that will not allow for distractions and I enjoy that. It is easy to get lost in a focused world where one must stay focused. My reloading bench has helped me to pass gainful time on sleepless nights.

It is easy to write and have one’s writing deteriorate into a similarity of so many of the conversations we seem to have with folks our own age: This hurts, that causes me problems, my lumbago, my sciatica, my this, my that….no one wants to hear that much less read about it. It is better to keep silent unless one is with a close friend when both of you can laugh with and at each other once you discover that your conversation for the last twenty minutes have been about aches, pains, medicines, and procedures.

I suppose I am taking advantage of the good advice offered by the late Will Rogers, “Never miss a chance to shut up!”

The value of shutting up is immeasurable. Now, how can I, as a writer, make good use of shutting up?

Well? The floor is open for suggestions.

I suppose my greatest writing mistake is to think that I have to write about something. I learned as a songwriter that some of my best work is about nothing at all.


©2015 Mississippi Chris Sharp

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