Member-only story
Atrophy
Rediscovering my original voice
Today is the autumnal equinox. Besides being fun to say (go ahead, try it, I’ll wait: aa-tum-null), it’s one of only two days out of the year where the day and night are equal in length.
The last equinox? Well, it was day three of the national “15-Days to Stop The Spread” campaign. That went well, didn’t it?
Anyway, this story has nothing to do with coronavirus. Or politics. It’s all about time.
A lot happened since the last equinox. I changed careers and ended up in the hospital. And no, those two things have nothing to do with each other. Pro-tip: punctuation matters.
One thing that hasn’t happened since the spring equinox? I haven’t been to the gym. The last day I met with my trainer was March 4. 202 days ago.
Through that time, my muscles atrophied. I grew slower. Stretches became tougher.
Last night, Nicolas Cole equated bodybuilding with writing. While phyiscal muscles atrophy from lack of exercise, so do creative one. If you don’t create, the act becomes more difficult. Atrophy is a bitch.
The good news is everything is fixable. Muscles, both physical and creative, are repairable. It just takes effort and willpower.
