This writer’s new BFF – is a Cold!
I admit it’s strange considering I’ve often boasted of never getting colds except on extremely rare occasions… Well, “Pride always goes before a fall,” and after this particular surprise, my thinking about colds is undergoing an about-face.
This wasn’t so when the first symptom appeared – an exhaustion I couldn’t account for. Extra sleep was called for and arranged, but to no avail. Still I did not relent. “I’m fighting off a cold,” I said with a bright smile, as if I already had it licked.
Not so fast, said the cold. Every day I seemed to get worse, and finally I had to admit I had a zinger. But how could this have happened? How could I let my frequencies drop to such a low point where I would fall prey to germs? I’ve always equated my good immune system with my energy level. With staying in that “good” energy band, above the fray.
It was humbling. And yet enlightening too. Because the upshot was some new writing this morning. Amidst the coughing and the sneezing, thoughts I hadn’t considered before started to pour out. And then I remembered someone once told me that a cold means the soul is crying…
It’s like when you want to cry but you can’t. You might not even know that you want to cry. And then you get a cold. And you suffer through the cold. And all the while, though you may not know it, your soul is releasing whatever it was that made you feel like crying.
It’s all about releasing. Call it a cough or a cold but do call it humbling. When you’re humble you’re vulnerable. To be vulnerable is to be open, maybe in ways that don’t feel good. But if you’re a writer you have to be open, and keep opening more and more to get to the core.
Today I got to some good stuff. I’ve been writing memoir for too many years not to recognize when I’ve hit the mark, and how hard it can be to get there. So bless me, and bless my cold for being such a gift. A sneezy-wheezy gift – but a gift, nevertheless.