Rediscovering An Early Love

Writing used to come so easily. 

When I was in school, I could dial up pages of drivel (brilliance in my eyes at the time) about a sonnet, play or random historical quote. I was a top draft choice for group projects during my MBA run because of my ability to synthesize numbers and analysis. At the outset of my media career, I routinely cranked out multiple long-form columns without much trouble.

But trying to hammer out pieces regularly here has been a difficult task. Many false starts and quick one-liners more appropriate for Twitter have littered my “Drafts” queue. 

It’s certainly a far cry from the warm, inviting glow of the red light in my radio world. Words flow, for lack of a better analogy, like water. While I’m not generally subject to what I term “hot take nonsense,” I’ve no problem deftly moving between sports topics and mixing in pop culture and social concepts (again, this man’s humble opinion). 

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But I’m going to be better about trying. That’s the first step. And in these past two weeks, there was that pause, a moment of clarity, to perhaps unclog that blockage. 

We got back to the beach. We met up with some old friends for a bonfire and celebration. Well, mourning for the girls as they pondered a new school year. But we spent ample time walking the beach, observing the chaotic existence of sand crabs scurrying in self-preservation and breathing. 

Sure, there were a couple long dialogues on the greater meaning of life and aspirations and all, but it was about pausing from the race for a minute. We lifted the tech break to grab a couple of these shots. The reminder of the ebb and flow of the world spoke enough.

And bleeds into the next pieces —- my Rock N Roll circle.