Holding Up the Sky

I've taken a week off work to work on a writing project. And my body has said, "No. Nope. No way." I had this big list of things I'd like to do around the house also. And my body has said, "Forget it, sister. You're done." 

I have been laying the occasional coat of paint on the cabinet. Yes, that's still in process. My contact at the publishing company is away until Tuesday, so there's no progress on the book. And my notebook with 120 pages of handwritten short fiction languishes in the book rack on my kitchen table, fourteen thousand (and some) words typed and at least that many to go. Then the story to construct around it. 

But my body tells me it craves rest and nourishment. 

I've been off for two days so far and my mind roils around missed opportunity. I tell myself I need to surrender to what I need to do for myself. The heatwave swells all around me and encourages a slower rhythm. I've tucked in to the stack of books next to my bed and have read a paragraph or two here or there. I notice that I am slowing down and my mind begins to rest. Have I forgotten how to slow down enough to give myself an entire day of Sabbath? I notice I've been driving myself too hard at work for far too long, carrying too much. 

Holding up the sky. 

Atlas is a Titan in Greek mythology whose name is derived from a root word that means "most enduring." I think about him when I get myself into these work marathons and I'm not getting enough rest. Atlas was doomed to hold up the sky following a power struggle between the Titans and the Olympians. I sometimes have my own power struggle between the titanic and the god-like. I am neither and when I pretend toward either extreme, I find myself holding up the sky and buckling under its weight.  

One day, the hero Perseus happened upon Atlas and asked for hospitality. Atlas, who had been once tricked by a hero, feared being tricked again and refused. Perseus pulled the severed head of Medusa out of his bag and showed it to Atlas, who turned to stone and became the mountain range which, even today, carries his name. It seems he's still holding up the sky. 

The Great Summer Writing Retreat of 2019 continues. One hundred days of writing unedited ideas and following a prompt to its sometimes illogical conclusion.