I didn’t want to write this. I had a major family conflict tonight, the details of which are none of your business. But I curled up into a ball, went through some shit, talked to friends, etc, etc. I sat on my couch eating a fudgesicle, not wanting to do anything. But then a friend reminded me , obliquely, that I’m a Zen guy. So what’s the Zen response to troubles?

Chop Wood, Carry Water.

It’s the idea that the mind is entwined with this meat suit we wear. It’s a bonus , in my eyes, but sometimes the world we exist in, drags us down. I was feeling ashamed, sad, a whole host of feelings that left me numb and tired. I was going to go to bed, chuck it all in.

But that felt like defeat, like I was letting the situation rule me. That I was letting the slings and arrows, both deserved and undeserved, stop my life. And I wasn’t about to do that. That’s letting the brain weasels, the black dog, whatever you want to call it, win. It’s another step up onto the gallows. And I fight that climb every day.

In my opinion, there is no hard fast solution to getting over writers block. I prefer the solution John Hartness said to me: ass in seat. Like Skynrd said, all I can do is write about it. And I really need to start taking that to heart.

I’m going to end this by thanking everyone who’s reading these. In a lot of ways, you’re helping me. I hope I’m entertaining, not wasting your time, and make you think once in a while. Tonight, that ‘s all I have. Good night.