After work today I went to the grocery store for some sort of easy to prepare sustenance. As always, I made my way over to the lobster tank. As I watched, I thought, how like writers these lobsters are. Okay, stay with me, I promise I’m approaching a worthy comparison. The lobsters were all scrambling to find their place in the tank, crawling all over one another, occasionally having an eye to eye standoff over territory. One lobster in particular began his/her climb immediately after being clawed down. When one got to the top of the pile, and that much closer to the top of the tank, a few, not all, tried to claw it back down to the bottom.
In fascination I watched this one individual creature relentlessly attempt an escape, no matter how futile it seemed time after time. Why? Because the top of the tank didn’t move, it was still there. The opportunity for freedom didn’t cease to be simply because of the behaviour of the other lobsters. My point is simple, the dream is not going anywhere for any of us and the opportunities are more abundant than most lobsters/writers think. when we’re at the bottom of the tank being clawed down by fear, doubt, melancholy and discouragment, we miss seeing the top of the tank because all we see is the bottom. Be the lobster who keeps climbing despite the ever present negativity of a writer’s life, because my friends, like most bogeymen, it’s just not real. Hope is.
Be good to yourselves and as always, send out the good vibe to other writers who may be looking at the bottom of that damn tank. 🙂
Sparkey, AKA, The boy, Beast, Badness, and Baby. Could be we love this feline eh?
Sunset on an old farm road, not far from here. Just lovely, if you can stand the accompanying aroma.
And of course, those crustaceans. I took the other photos, but I had to pilfer this one from the internet.