July 14, 2014
…And what about acupuncture? Can it, will it, does it want to, set me right? That’s what’s on this writer’s mind tonight. I love to begin new journeys, and to add layers upon layers of experience upon each new excursion, turning each into a novella– so it wasn’t enough to sell the house, leave the state, retire from the career… More, my needy little heart begged. Give me more!
Putting aside all of the homesickness and grief over leaving my old home and family, although I’m secretly hoping acupuncture will cure that too, I just wanted to feel good enough to sit at my desk and write. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not pretending that it’s only my back that’s stopping me from writing. I know that I’m also pretending it’s that the boxes need to be unpacked, the new doctor needs to be selected, and the grass needs to mowed (flowers planted, windows washed, festival attended, thank you notes written, soup made, windows washed, dogs walked, messages messaged, Facebook checked, makeup applied, old writing reread, new writing reread…). Meanwhile, nearly two weeks in, I haven’t in fact worked on the new novel, nor have I looked into finding an agent to help me publish the already written novels. The novels I managed to write in my old life.
I did find an excellent acupuncturist near my new home. She spent two hours getting to know me, massaged my feet, stuck me with no less than twenty needles (maybe more, I didn’t count) and then left me on a heated table in dim light to contemplate my joy. Loved it. And here I am at home, and wow, gee, look at me!
Dang! Gotta go, the dryer is ready.