Sometimes an albatross helps

Carpal tunnel seldom makes for a happy writer. Few writers I know are really satisfied anyway, but not being able to write makes for an especially crusty sort of person. Maybe because instead of ignoring life while writing, and dealing with the usual self-doubts that accompany such a predicament, the sidelined writer has to think about the fact he or she can not do the one thing that keeps them sane. Or something like sane, anyway.

Such a situation is particularly frustrating if one is the sort of writer that believes almost any writing obstacle can be solved by keeping at the manuscript. And actually, I consider that previous statement one of the few truths about writing.

That is not to say, there’s no time and place for taking a break. After finishing a massive project it’s not only justified, but necessary. Or while on a vacation with family. Or whenever the writer starts believing the fact one writes is a point of consequence, as if in the great picture it actually matters to the Universe. Writing is just as important as replacing defective heart valves in the hearts of infants. OK maybe not that far, but almost as important. It’s gotta be just a little more important than what everyone else does all day, because well, everyone else isn’t writing.

That inflated self-appraisal is also known as hopping the fast train to Super Ego City. Karma usually derails that car and all its occupants pretty quickly, so it’s best to get off before the train rolls over the loose tie in the track. Better still, do not board in the first place. As it is, I have enough open debts with karma to settle already, so I see the business like this:

Writing is about staying focused while seated, and having some fun now and again with the pages that come from the time spent at the keyboard. Hopefully what’s on the pages make sense, to me and at least one other person. And I write until I hit a wall, and then write over, around or through it. Just stay the course, until the writing project says downshift or brake.

Ah, but carpal tunnel is the one problem one can’t write his or her way through; wrist wraps and ice will only carry one so far–the real fix is rest. So I’ve been resting a lot the past few weeks. With some reservations.

In fact, it’s time to return to what should be the tail end of the rest phase. And maybe find the wrist wrap.

Most of all, I need to accept that writing is not something to be taken for granted. If being on the sidelines for a bit is what it takes to remember that, then so it must be.

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