where wildly different is perfectly normal
The wall
The wall

The wall

When I was in college, working my ass off on my undergraduate degrees, I’d often talk about hitting “the wall.” It was when I’d be working really hard on my flute, and suddenly out of nowhere, forward progress came to a¬†screeching halt. In my mind I saw it as a large brick wall, red, towering directly in front of me, blocking out the sky and sun and pretty much everything in sight. It was the only thing visible, and it was intimidating. The only way around it was over, hand over hand, brick by brick. It was slow, hard, slogging work, but once on the other side everything was easier. My flute playing would be several times better, I’d pick up new techniques more quickly and easily, and basically it felt as though a life-sucking weight had been lifted. I hit the wall many, many times back then, and every time I made it over to the other side.

I’ve hit the wall. And it ain’t concerning my flute.

This wall is, again, towering directly in front of me, blocking out the sky and sun and pretty much everything in sight. But there’s a difference this time. It’s grey steel, rivets where they join together. Cold. Featureless. No handholds visible. And it mocks my attempts to scale it. I know the only way around this damned wall is over, and that the relief on the other side is just delicious, but the mere thought of trying to get over it hurts my brain.

My brain is so fried this morning that thinking is almost more than I can take. Even brain-dead level thinking. Blankly staring out the window at the kidlets at recess is about the level it can handle. It’s not the list of things that needs to get done today, it’s not the wait for a buyer, it’s not that spring break is finally over THANK GOD, it’s not really anything in particular. It’s just The Wall. Appearing out of nowhere, bringing momentum and motivation to a screeching halt.

Just need to find a way over. Somehow.


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