We all hit dry spells from time to time. We say that a baseball player, who cannot get a hit during an ever growing number of times at bat, is in a slump. For a writer it is the absence of sufficient inspiration, a block, which prevents them from being able to write or type a succession of acceptable (and marketable) sentences. For me it is the attainment of a mission, which leaves me in a “what now” nether world of no motivation to act or think about what to do next. All of my momentum is gone, leaving me with mothing, just nothing at all.
So why not make a blog post out of this stagnant condition? At least it leads to a sequence of sentences appearing on my computer screen, without a trace of the word processor’s color codings which highlight my misspelled words or my use of questionable grammar. Writing about nothing can be an achievement in itself. The word count at the bottom of my screen says so. And who, among us mere mortals, would ever be foolish to claim that a computer makes mistakes? Not I! At least, not today. Nothing is my salvation in my never ending quest to write something each week to post to my inconsequential web log.
Tomorrow, perhaps, purpose will reappear in my life, providing me with something to write about for next week’s installment. I find this a comfort that a sense of purpose can give one hope for one’s future, which is essential if we are to avoid the kind of perpetual dry spell that can lead us into seeking drastic measures in pursuit of relief from an emptiness without measure.
I now have 336 words as my one attainable measurement for the prospect of a purpose. So I will cling to the sage advice of that infamous Scarlett woman who counseled us all to consider life from her own revivalist vantage point by sharing her perspective that “After all, tomorrow is another day.”