Monday, March 2, 2015


by Elizabeth

It's March. How'd that happen?

When the year was new, how many of us made a resolution? I often do, though it generally takes the form of a list of things I want to say are true when Father Time drops his scythe the last night of the year. This year, though, I added something in particular, tiny but significant. Well, significant to me, and maybe to my health, and not a big deal though surprisingly onerous at times. Yet I've done it.

Calcium and water in a pretty cup, exactly 8 ounces of resolve
I'm drinking more water. Specifically, a cup in the morning, and a cup at night, when I take the calcium tablet my doctor added to my daily regimen a few years back. Just a cup, a coffee cup in fact, and I drain the whole thing morning and night with my pill. No big deal. But sometimes daunting. Just eight ounces, and daunting! But I do it.

Have I seen real benefit? I can't say I have really. I don't feel slimmer, stronger, fresher, lighter for it; in fact, I'm currently working on shedding a few pounds that decided my body was a good place to hitch a ride. (Is there a set amount of human fat in the world? If I lose it, must someone else find it? Did this fat find me after someone else misplaced it?) So feeling lighter for the extra water isn't the case here, but I still manage to feel better for drinking it. Because I'm drinking it. Because I said I'd drink it, and I'm doing it.

My writing habits, like those of countless other writers, can be sketchy. An old friend once mentioned how heavy her pen can be at times--I loved that. And it's true. Although sometimes the hardest part of writing is sitting down to do it--and the excuse that we are too busy is rapidly put to shame by those who are busier than we yet manage to find hours to park their posteriors and write--it's something that can be done if we make it a priority.

Sometimes I feel like this blog is an exercise in self-reporting. Telling the truth of when I write, when I don't. One of those truths is that I wish I were better about sitting down in the chair and cranking out the words. Every day? Nope--not for me, though I wish I did. Not even when I'm on a roll, like the fall of 2013 when I finished up the first draft of the novel I'm querying now. I got a lot of work done, I met my goals, but did I write every day? Not even then.

But I take this pill twice a day, and for the past 50+ days have drunk my cup of water twice a day, which proves that if I decide to do it, I can do it. And since I am so far from the most disciplined human being around, it means if I can do it, truly, anyone can do it. Take a pill, drink some water, sit down and write a few words even if they suck.

I didn't resolve to write every day. And yet I also know there is nothing magical, not really, about January 1, and if I want to write every day, really want to, really decide to, I can. Just like one cup at a time, over and over and over again until I've drunk over 40 times my weight in water more than I would have without resolving to come the end of this year--well, if I can choke down the water, I can choke down anything. If I decide to. As can we all.

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