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.)