I Fell off my Horse

Hello Readers,

It’s been a while since I posted last. I won’t attempt to justify my absence with a long list of glorified excuses. Instead, I’ll give you the short list:

1. I got very sick and had my gallbladder removed.
2. I couldn’t think of anything to blog about.
3. I fell off my horse

First of all, I never, ever get sick. Over the years, I’ve earned myself the nickname “Little Miss Health” because I’m always so hale and hearty. I never skip a beat. Onwards and upwards. This winter, however, illness arrived and robbed me of my reining title. Sickness also submerged me into a creative black hole. I was in a funk. I could not write.

Friends told me to write about my gallbladder experience. I reminded them that my blog posts are supposed to be funny. There is absolutely NOTHING funny about gallbladder attacks or surgery.

In fact, the only humorous thing about the entire experience was the email my husband, Darrel, sent out to family and friends: “Laurie has surbiced the surgery of her gal latter the dock yet says no compilations” [sic]. Of course we all know Darrel well enough that we were able to translate his message to be: “Laurie has survived the surgery of her gallbladder. The doctor says, “No complications.”

At any rate, I was resting at home for several weeks and I figured I’d have plenty of empty hours in which to write. I did have an abundance of time, but I was sadly unmotivated and apathetic. It seemed I was out of touch with the natural rhythm of my life. I felt disconnected, disengaged, and discouraged.

I had fallen off the proverbial horse and I had to get back in the saddle again. The problem was that when I went to the stall to find my horse, he was no longer there! I suspected he had escaped through the barn door and galloped far away.

What a peculiar feeling! I would commence a blog but feel like I was going nowhere. I was riding a carousel horse, up and down and round and round. I’d abandon blog posts and begin new ones. An idea would seem brilliant one minute and dismal and dreary the next. I’d take a literary leap, then suddenly crash land – and I’d hit the delete button in frustration. I felt like I was riding an old mare one minute and a bucking bronco the next.

I began to fret and fuss. Had my love for writing vanished? Had the doctor removed my imagination along with my gallbladder?

Thankfully, as time went by, I gradually started to have faint flickers of creative thoughts. Tiny ideas started to sprout into bigger ideas. Big ideas started to blossom and then multiply.

Eventually I found myself back in the saddle. As it turned out, my horse hadn’t run away at all. He was waiting patiently for me all along. We may need to trot for a while before we reach a full gallop – but I have a feeling we’ll be jumping fences in no time at all.

Yee-haw!