Facing Writing Non-Productivity Without the Guilt

by Emme Gannon @GannonEmme

We’ve experienced almost two months of lock down—government mandated boundaries that includes staying at home except for securing necessities. Since I wander around my house and garden alone these days, my thoughts and imaginations often suddenly explode like fireworks on the fourth of July. They come out of nowhere with uncanny clarity. The memories take on new life when looking back from the pivotal point of living in a pandemic with an unseen enemy.One such tender memory recently rushed at me as I was planting flowers in a large pot on my patio. The touch of the moist earth in my bare hands stole me away to a long ago vacation with my husband. Each morning we would walk the beach, holding hands and feeling the warmth of the sun on our backs. We had very little conversation as we each marveled at the shared experience. I remember how his hand felt as it held tight to mine—the sense of protection his grasp evoked. The sound of the waves crashing the shore while the mewing call of the gulls overhead all contributed to a symphony of joy and contentment with the one I love. 
As we rounded the curve we came upon a young man who clearly defined multi-tasking. He stood facing the roar of the ocean, one hand holding a fishing rod, the other hand held a cell phone to his ear. On his back was a baby tucked into a back pack, his tiny legs thrashing about with joy at the closeness to his father and the wonder of the sea, all lost to his dad. 
My husband and I broke our silence to mourn the sacred moments the dad was missing by trying to pour all of life into one moment. He missed seeing his child’s reaction to the rhythm of the tides. He missed seeing his little feet dance with excitement at this new experience. 
Now that my husband is with the Lord, I relive more and more memories, where nothing was said but everything felt—the moments where the awe of God and one another reigned supreme in our hearts, adding more cement to our already strong marriage.
If we learn just one thing from being sequestered at home, I hope it will be the sacredness of solitude. Our lives are meant to be God’s love story written by Jesus. Instead, our urgency to produce often slides us by the truly deep and lasting moments of life—those moments that bring a deeper dimension and truth to who we are and what we write.
Endless motion produces scattered thoughts and culminates in scattered dreams. Let this forced isolation become an inward pilgrimage of quiet introspection, where memories and life lived are reflected with a depth that comes from hearing God speak. We can all come out from this wiser and stronger because God has much to say to our hungry soul. Wisdom that we’ve often been too busy to hear. 

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Emme Gannon is a wife, mother, and grandmother who loves to write stories that stir the heart. Her award-winning writing has appeared in Focus on the Family magazine, several anthologies, and numerous newsletters. She just completed her first novel.