Unless our kitchen faucet is nudged to the correct point–one which requires the precision of a NASA Space Lab docking–a steady pulse of drip, drip, drip drones in unrelenting regularity. Contrary to the laws of physics, the sound increases in volume and intensity the more I attend to it. The annoyance factor skyrockets and is paired with a twinge of guilty conscience over the waste of a valued resource. This morning as I struggled to carve out some writing time before heading off to the gym, the silence was punctuated with the familiar plip, plip, plip sound. Must stick to the plan. Knock out that blog post before the distractions of the day consume all your energy and time. Plip, plip, plip swelled to gong, gong, gong.
I paused to refocus and found myself abandoning my original topic to attend to what had fallen in my lap–or more accurately on my frustrated ears. Water. What did it have to teach me in this moment?
I’m an Aquarian, so there’s some subliminal connection to water that resonates with me. H2O has such a chameleon character; it soothes, heals, cleanses, nourishes and refreshes. Water also has a contrary aspect; it erodes, destroys, realigns and drowns. As I wrestle with conscience, inertia and sheer laziness, a novel viewpoint sprang to mind: persistence. As it courses towards its destination, water overcomes barriers large and small, lengthy and brief.
The process of connecting to a reading audience presents challenges to my resolve as a writer. Sometimes the impediments are small–ideas elude me and the page remains blank. At other times the story is written but publications remains out of reach. Only rejection slips arrive in my mailbox. Just as water faces obstacles and swirls over, around or under to continue undeterred on its intended journey, I must commit the same dedication to my writing. To bring a message of understanding and healing, I accept that rejection slips bring me closer to the goal and improve the product along the way.