Pit Stop

Have you ever felt that sometimes being busy doesn’t always mean you’re being productive? Last week was a very busy week for me. On Wednesday I spoke to a Lake County Homemakers Group which has a program every so often on a foreign country. Although I’m not a member, I was invited to present my pictures of Belgium and tell them a little about my research of the area. I don’t know about you, but with friends and family I usually get a sigh when I say I want to show my “vacation” pictures. So being asked to share them with an entire room full of women—well, it was just too good an opportunity to pass up.

I also met a few readers, connected with at least one book club leader, signed some books and came away reflecting lots of smiles.

But, while preparing for the presentation and of course for the day of the event, I didn’t get any writing done. I always feel a little “itchy” when I’m not outwardly productive. Is that how racecar drivers feel when they have to stop to refuel? Like they’re not moving forward so it’s almost like going backward?

I’d also been invited to a friend’s lake house for a girl’s weekend out. There were six of us and I must admit I’d been a little hesitant about going. It’s been so easy to be a hermit lately that I thought I’d forgotten how to simply chat and enjoy the company of people outside my own family. I’ve been so isolated, in fact, that a fellow writer and I started a Hermit’s Club. Yes, we even have a theme song. Membership is obviously limited as to welcome anyone into the fold would be counterproductive to the point. The only reason the two of us can be members is that we live hundreds of miles apart.

This past weekend, I violated every club rule.

Of the six women who went, at least one of us was talking from the moment we piled into the car (all of us in one great big Escalade) to the moment we arrived back home. The two hours to get to the lake house flew by as we chatted past the miles. Then, from inside the cozy house that overlooked the frozen lake, we spent the day talking. We watched the sun set over the huge Lake Winnebago, enjoying yet more conversation. We dined at a local pub where we chatted some more, then returned to the lake house and stayed up talking until past all of our bedtimes (okay, admittedly that bedtime is quite a bit earlier at our ages than it would have been for a group of six younger women). We got up relatively early, talked some more over bagels, muffins and coffee. After that we piled back into the Escalade and never once ran out of something to say all the way home.

My husband asked if we had the radio on, or the television at the lake house, or if there was a single break in conversation for the day and a half we were gone. I said no, not a single one. What a great time!

I came away with countless story ideas, new memories of laughter and friendship, and a reminder of what I’ve been missing by dividing my time only between my work and my family.

That’s my “Point For The Day” for the writers out there, and anyone else who has a job they’re entirely devoted to. Sometimes with a job we love, we forget to live. Especially as a writer, no matter what stage we’re at, how can we expect to grow if all we do is work?

So go refuel your “muse” by spending some time with other people, real people, not just characters from your stories. Even if you think you’re out of practice, you’ll find connecting to others comes naturally.

Now I’m off to confess my membership to the Hermit’s Club is in serious jeopardy . . .