Holding My Breath Under Water

I have declared a writing vacation, which is every kind of oxymoron.

I will say that I am not writing, but words will unfold in my mind.

I will say that I am not writing, but I will notice the details in banana peels and furrowed brows and hummingbirds.

I will say that I am not writing, but I will hold my ideas like a bouquet of balloons on a windy day.

I will take long walks and eat mint chocolate chip ice cream.

I will sleep in and I will do YouTube Yoga.

I will listen to the crickets.

I will read Water for Elephants, Thunder and Lightning, Naming the World, and Shel Silverstein.

I will dance in the living room and sing loudly in the car.

I will “not write” just like I used to hold my breath underwater and count, just to see how long I could go.

And when I can’t hold them in any longer, I will set the words free.

(I’ll see you on Monday.)