Who doesn't love to swing? (And, I mean that in the most innocent way!)
As a kid I could swing for hours, especially when there was someone there to push me. Pumping back and forth, arcing higher and higher, gliding to a lazy stop, then dragging my feet through the sand (or snow) beneath me - all of it was good. Another push to start the cycle all over, and I was on my way.
No matter the season, swinging was a perfect pasttime. On a swing I felt free.
I'm older now, and don't do the back and forth motion as well. It leaves me feeling slightly queasy, even with my eyes closed so that I can't see the ground falling away. I'm told it has something to do with the inner ear, an unbalancing of the fluid in the auditory canal. It's the same thing that makes you dizzy from spinning. (I used to love riding the merry-go-round, too, but I don't miss it like I do swinging.) It's harder to enjoy the back and forth - the waxing and waning - of creative energy as an adult, too. I find myself slipping into the winter blahs around this time each year, not because of the weather, but because I have been away from creating too long. With the kids off to school last August, I took off like a first-grader getting an underdog (swing lingo for the most effective type of push). I pumped like mad and cranked out 12 chapters before I tired, and started the slow glide into the Christmas season. Fall's momentum used up, and a million other things on my plate, I came to a writing standstill over the holidays. Now I need a push to get going again, but unlike a kid learning to swing, I have to get myself moving.
So...this is me, rocking back and forth, trying to get back into the swing of things. It may take a little while - and a whole lot of effort! - but writing is one pleasure I never intend to give up.
See you on the playground!
If you like this post, please feel free to share it on social media, and thank you!