a bit of whimsy: chapter one

Once upon a time, there was a girl who forgot how to write. It wasn’t that she forgot how to physically write words. No, words were her specialty. Her words just didn’t feel like her anymore. 

Her words filled lists and emails and instructional documents. All very helpful and productive. And boring. Sadly, there is nothing delightful about an instructional document.

(No offense to any and all instructional documents. Your service is appreciated)

Now, back to the girl and her words…

Every time the girl sat down to write anything that was not a list, she simply stared at the page. 

Waiting for the words to come. And of course, words did come. They always do, you know. But still, they weren’t the words she was hoping for.

They were thinking words, and what she longed for were feeling words.

It feels important at this moment to clarify what the girl means by thinking words and feeling words.

Thinking words tell you what’s going on. They tell you what is what, and that is that. Thinking words want you to think that they have solved a problem. Thinking words are peas that you move around on your plate a whole lot so it looks like you ate more than you did. Thinking words think far too highly of themselves sometimes. 

But feeling words… Feeling words don’t tell you anything, because telling distracts you from what is happening right in front of you. Feeling words don’t solve problems, because solving problems isn’t the goal. Feeling words are never uneaten peas on the plate. Feeling words are random ice cream cones with sprinkles. Just because. 

While the girl longed for the feeling words, every time she sat to write, only thinking words came out. Logical, technical, intellectual, heavy words. None of the whimsy and ease that she had known before.

What was going on? Had she lost it? She didn’t even know that was possible. How does it just… go away? Was it lost? Could she get it back?

Bah! Again with the thinking words!

The girl realized she was more stuck than she had originally thought. This was going to take some work. But how to get unstuck? Just as she was about to sit down and THINK about how to get unstuck, she froze.

Thinking thoughts and thinking words were just two sides of the same coin. Continuing in this manner just would not do.

Her eyes filled with tears. What if she couldn’t ever get unstuck? What if the feeling words were gone forever? 

Just as she was about to spiral into a full feelings spiral, a gravely voice floated up from underneath the couch where she was sitting.

“If you ask me, it seems that you have forgotten how to play.”

The girl shrieked. She lived alone, and unless someone had snuck into her house, she had no idea who was talking to her.

“I said, you have forgotten how to play. That is your problem.”

Slowly, she leaned forward to look underneath the couch. It couldn’t be. There was no way this was possible.

Underneath the couch lay her cat. And he was talking. To her.