I call this catharsis.
Others might say beach. Or sunrise. Or Indian Ocean.
Semantics. You say po-tay-toe; I say po-tah-toe.
There’s just something about that moment when you’re the only one on the beach, your bare feet digging into the moist sand as you settle into your running rhythmn, the only sound the gentle rush of waves cascading rhythmically along the shore. The sun just begins to break over the horizon, as hermit crabs scuttle sideways from the water to their tunnels.
Believe it or not, this was my “office” for the past week.
I’ve never been a beach person. I have a new appreciation now. Just outside Malindi on the Kenyan coast, minutes from the Indian Ocean, it was a much-needed departure from the Nairobi craziness.
Sitting on the wide veranda of our villa, the rasp of cicadas filling the air and the ocean breezes rustling palm leaves, I cranked out project after project. I got up early and ran on the beach. When we returned to Nairobi, I found myself breathing a little easier about going into the Christmas break.
Yes, it was a working vacation, but as odd as it might sound, I was ready to dive into my “to-do” list of projects. Between illness, power outages, faulty internet connections and water shortages during the previous weeks, I felt like I was floundering in a sea of missed deadlines … pardon the analogy. Even running, my normal therapy, had taken a back seat.
People ask me how I do my writing and other creative work. Answer? It depends. I have tried and true methods for reporting, but those even change sometimes, based on how the story evolves. The writing can start from front to back, right from the middle or backwards to forwards. I could design a template, love it – then find better art and scrap it.
I love what I do. But there are times when I don’t – when the pressure of creating all of the time makes me wish I was a welder or a banker.
And that’s when I need to hit the reset button.
Enter this week’s reset.