Mooreover / Blog

In the two-and-a-half years that I’ve maintained the blog, I’ve often struggled with periods of inactivity, attributed to either writer’s block or (more often than not) a complete void of independant thought. I now know why…

On Monday I went golfing with six of my friends. It was a beautiful day, and we didn’t rent any carts – considering how “well” most of us play golf, this meant that we were walking alot, mostly to the far left or right of every hole. For most of us, this was more of a comedic endeavor than an athletic one, especially since certain holes were handicapped by specific challenges: on one, we had to tee off “Happy Gilmore” style; on another, we had to use a 3-wood on the length of the entire hole, from tee to green. Although the gimmicks were fun, my favorite moments were not from our own spin on the game, but from a well-hit ball and the walk with friends between swings.

At the end of nine holes I sat alone on a bench and waited for the second foursome to finish. The sun was setting in front of me, casting a gold blanket over the rolling hills of the course. In that brief moment I had more clarity of thought then I had had in months, and in the process of that thought I realized that the feverish pitch I was maintaining at work and at home (in preparation for the baby) had corralled my mind. Any creative thought in my head had been herded into a corner by the more active concerns of work and the expectations I had set for myself at home.

These were the best nine holes of golf I’ve ever played. Not only did I spend time with a great group of men, but the physical activity (yes, walking is still a physical activity – keep your golf jokes to yourself) in such a peaceful setting seemed to lull my dominant thoughts to rest, and my creative thoughts, freed from their guards, started to roam.

In literature the creative aspect is often portrayed as a woman – not easily placated, not easily won; more than a little moody, but more than a little beguiling as well. So many times I have tried to carve out five minutes for a quick blog post and expected magic to happen. That night I realized that I have to romance my mind if I expect it to put out. It’s a crude analogy, but it’s true – as with any relationship, if I don’t spend time maintaining it, the relationship withers. Thinking that I could just pop in and say hi to my creative side and still expect some amount of depth is tantamount to a mailman asking for a confessional. In those five minutes on a park bench I realized that I needed to spend time with my creative thoughts: take her for walks, show her the sights, let her dance.

Seems like an odd train of thought to have while golfing with six guys? The sad part is – this clarity came on Monday night. I’ve been too busy to post ’til now. Must be time for another round of golf…