Refueling Creativity

Realization came as I sat there at the beach the second day of our family camping trip. The fog-laced wind blew slightly, cooling the heat basking my skin. I looked to the right and saw that fog pushing into the already cloudy-but-warm day.

The wave took one of my younger sons along with it as he held the boogie board for dear life. (How he could stand that cold Pacific water, I still have no clue.) The waves and he roared with the success of the joint venture when both hit the sandy shore.

My husband and youngest son stood a short distance away in companionable silence, fishing

poles in hand. (Even though my hubby was in extreme pain from a pinched nerve.)

My two eldest children were headed off towards the cave around the bay's bend. Well, children in the maternal sense. With the eldest being an adult now and heading off to the Marines in a few short weeks, it gets harder and harder to keep calling him a child.

This feeling of contentment washed over me. I know, I know. Totally cliche, but it's how it happened. (Which is probably why it became a cliche, right?) With that came this influx of renewed creativity. Anymore and I would've plumped up like that girl in Willie Wonka.

With that new creativity I realized I was churning a stale sub plot. A fresh idea smacked me as it danced in my mind. I saw my MFC in a depth I'd yet to see her. It saddened me. My MMC confessed how frightened he was of himself. I empathized in a way I'd not done before. I even felt for the killer. Actions aside, the reasons were pure and in line with their beliefs.

Sometimes your creative well is empty and you don't even know it. The car's out of gas and your still rolling down the hill, not knowing your engine's not running. Or you're moving your space vessel pilot joystick without realizing the system's reverted to autopilot.

Okay, okay... enough analogies, before I start puking them out.

I've been really into it. The writing thing, I mean. It's been freakin' fantastic. My creative juices have been heated up like a jacuzzi for Mental AR, the slight irritation of starting in the wrong place aside, of course. Though, even that was exhilarating in it's own perverse way. The fact I even had time to face a challenge such as that has been a long time coming.

My inspiration from renewed dedication to writing had been sucking my creative juices too fast. That jacuzzi had turned into a sauna without me knowing, and that sauna was out of water.

But, in that moment my sense of family and motherhood was renewed, my creativity was renewed as well.

Isn't it odd how that happens sometimes?