Friday, February 09, 2018

I miss the zone

The last week of research and writing felt familiar and warm. In spite of warnings not to go longer than sixty minutes a day I went further and further past that line because I was back in; back in the zone for writing. Even though what I was doing was traumatic the zone took me, consumed me and I was in it.

Today, I was pacing, nervous, waiting for something. And I realised I'd come in seeking the zone. That action, that focus, that writing for purpose that I had for nearly twenty years that I lost on leaving. I had it again, with heightened emotion for the content, but I had it. That feeling of sitting down then just getting the fuck stuck back into something meaningful.

I was part of something bigger than me and I keenly feel the loss of that identity. That I mattered and what I did counted.

But better a has-been than a never-was. 

Now to find another been.


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