Penny Post #44: Goldilocks & The Three Bears

Starting before just right.

I take another sip of the chai sitting next to me. I let it ooze down my throat, coating the dryness. I check my notifications again. I wait for the red bubble to appear, allowing me to not do what I came here to. I scroll through all of the different Spotify playlists, skipping songs and queuing others. I re-pin up my hair, removing the loose strands falling in front of my face. I refresh my email inbox, feeling like Alice tumbling down the rabbit hole. I turn the volume up and then down and then up again, wondering if I'm harming my ear drums. I take my jacket off, feel a slight breeze, and then put it back on, feeling perspiration form on my forehead. I sip my chai again.

An endless cycle of trying to find the perfect environment so that the words flow seamlessly, while knowing that the words will only flow when I finally start typing them.

It is always like this when I start.

The porridge is too warm. Too cold.

The seat is too hard. Too soft.

The bed is too high. Too low.

I will make any number of excuses for not doing the thing I woke up at six am to do. I rub my eyes in sleepy hindrance determined to not write one single word.

I eventually wrestle one word out of the abyss of my mind which feels like a victory on this unproductive morning. I take another sip of chai to reward myself. I negotiate with the self that is desperate to climb into bed and sleep the world away: one sip for one word. Every word I write down, I get to revel in the warm ooze of tea and milk sliding down my throat.

Just because I love to write does not mean that it is easy. There is discipline that I'm only beginning to practice. Secret negotiations between my self as a writer and my self who is sleepy, hungry, and uninspired.

Goldilocks was sent into the wood by her mother to accomplish an errand. She returned home without having completed the errand, yet with a belly full of "just right" porridge: how I return most mornings.

It is a cautionary tale about the dangers of distraction and greed. When Goldilocks awakes from her slumber and sees three gigantic, furry bears standing above her, there is no returning to the Goldilocks who stumbled upon an empty cabin.

I take another sip of chai.

We can go to extreme lengths to distract ourselves from our work. The work will always be there. It might be too warm, too cold, too hard, too soft, too high, too low, yet it will always remain next to us as if the most loyal companion.

I take another sip of chai. Not just right, yet ready to begin…

Until next time,

Kiera