This past week went by at a slow pace. We are at my mom’s place and there is nothing to do here.
We have been eating quite a lot. I am not doing anything, anything at all. The first two days I liked being here not doing anything, just relaxing and eating all the food that appears before me. But as time progressed I felt the need to do some of the things that I normally do. However, it is challenging for me to work in the kitchen alongside my mom because she disagrees with my approach.
So I am back to sitting with nothing else to do other than watching some movies.
Even that is not enticing me.
This experience is showing me the importance of our routines and doing the work. Can’t I use this time to write a few stories and poems? Well, just sitting idle and trying to think of ideas is making my brain dizzy. We need the movement, the regular hustle and bustle to keep the muse flowing. Washing dishes is one of my favorite activities that helps my brain connect with its muse and makes the ideas appear on my screen later. I had been ignoring those connections quite a lot of late, hadn’t I?
I made excuses instead.
I don’t have time to sit and play with idea right now, I have dishes to clean.
I can’t write down this piece of poetry just yet because I need to finish cooking the chicken curry.
Oh, the excuses.
In fact, the boredom I am currently facing is a blessing in disguise. There is nothing wrong with being busy. I can still jot down the ideas that pop up while cooking, cleaning, or driving. Not while driving perhaps, still I can jot it down when I get to the destination.
Looking back I realize back when I was writing and publishing almost daily, this is exactly how I used to do it. Catch the snippets of muse on the go and later sit back and elaborate and publish without overthinking. How else do I think I was able to do all that when my baby was 2 years old while being busy with an active eight year old?
Waiting for time is a futile endeavor, but utilizing the time that we have will give a better result. Five minutes here and there add up to quite a lot.
My foggy brain, after all, managed to come up with something so wise, didn’t it?
Well, it’s time to follow my own advice next week when I am back at my home and fall back to blaming the lack of few quiet minutes to myself to think, write, and publish.
This flash fiction piece is written in response to the one hundred and fifty fourth edition of Fiction Monday inspired by the word prompt – FOGGY hosted at Reflections by yours truly. Do join in if you have a tale to tell.
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