“Observe the Paramecium”

                “Observe the paramecium,” she said,
                And suddenly I’m dizzy with the line:
                The softness of the “s” and “v,” the sweet
                Shakespearian rhythm circles in my head.

I don’t recall the rest of the sonnet, composed for a college class more than half a century ago. A poem was due the next day, and I couldn’t think what to write. My roommate looked up from her biology text and read the three-word imperative aloud. Something about “Observe the paramecium” must have tickled her too. I settled in to write.

Most of us have dry spells. My professor said writing about failure to write (as I did in the sonnet) was a stale cliché, and clearly his comment stuck. Writers writing about writing continually discuss the tension between inspiration and discipline, schedule, or routine. Columnists, commentators, and cartoonists under contract to produce on a regular schedule can’t sit out a dry spell while they wait for inspiration to strike.

For the rest of us, turning to creativity only when we feel creative is an option. Some find this satisfying. Others find nothing gets created. There are always distractions. Perfectionism gets in the way. For me, the commitment to produce a blog post every week—every Monday since March 2016, without exception—pushes me over the speed bumps that might give me excuses not to start.

Most surprising, to me, are the times when the very act of writing generates new ideas. For twenty years or so, I handwrote three full “morning pages” daily as proposed in The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron. On uninspired mornings, I might start with a concern or question and repeat it in circles. About the middle of the second page, my mind would take hold and break out of the circle, racing toward a resolution by the end of page three. Routine and inspiration can work together if we don’t let the speed bumps deter us.

Image: Photo by the National Cancer Institute.