Vacations and short breaks away from our work give us a chance to rest and recuperate from our daily immersion in water.
Without our goggles, we can view our work with a new perspective.
We can let our mind relax, step out of routines, and explore new pathways.
We can rest on the side of the pool or float on a raft instead of swimming.
There’s a certain pleasure in feeling the warm sun against one's back, the sense of weightlessness, the sudden freedom.
But when it’s time to return to the water, it can be an effort to get back into the pool.
I’m always reluctant to take that first step.
Instead, I cling to the uppermost rung of the ladder at the edge of the pool, not wanting the shock of the water to chill my skin.
And yet, as I stand there, compelling myself to take that step, I can feel the urge—the need—to swim again.
And what surprises me is that just by writing--with a pen or keyboard, it doesn't matter--I let go of the edge without realizing it and step off the ladder.
One moment, I'm standing on the ladder; the next, I’m back in the water.
The shock that I had feared was only in my mind, not an actual shock of cold but a fear of cold, a fear of silence, of nothingness, of a blank page.
The moment my pen starts moving across the page, though, my fear magically vanishes.
I can see my thoughts reflected on the page in front of me.
And I’m back in the water swimming again.
For more on how to start writing again after a break, visit: