Losing my mojo

Losing my mojo, happiness, writing, cooking, lists, randomness, COVID-19 lexicon,

A few days ago, I lost my mojo. A mid-week malady that stayed the weekend. I wasn’t really sad; just unsettled. As if invisible tendrils of disquiet had crept around me, each for its own reasons, and I would do well to tune in. So, a button was pressed and I went on mute.

The kids had their own take on my small wallow. When discussing my upcoming birthday (not a milestone), and how there was no need for any fuss, my daughter mused: “It’s a really awkward age, Mum.

I thought: How would she – at 15 – know? Then I thought: I wonder if she’s right?

And yesterday, I made mug cakes with my youngest son. He said: “If you don’t succeed in writing, then you could always try cooking.

He was quick to follow this with: “I mean, I’m sure you will make it. One day.

Losing my mojo, happiness, writing, cooking, lists, randomness, COVID-19 lexicon,

I did maintain my mojo for lists – a not uncommon way to keep a handle on life.

They are everywhere. On scrappy bits of paper and the backs of envelopes. On my hand and on my phone. I’ve even indulged my compulsion (and pretensions) on a dead leaf.

Losing my mojo, happiness, writing, cooking, lists, leaf, randomness, COVID-19 lexicon,

Lists that contain the remnants of the previous day’s imperatives and which are amended in bold to connote the new (complete with OED approved COVID-19 lexicon).

Lists of potential productivity; shopping and chores; lines I’ve heard or read; thoughts snatched down in physical form before they disappear (which never seem as good as they sound in my head).

Nor do they necessarily make much sense: “The nun. Is she praying or pretending?

At some point yesterday, and for no apparent reason, the tendrils of disquiet lessened their grip. I think it may have been in the middle of the mug cake making, when I messed one up.

It reminded me of a Spanish proverb I’d noted in the earnest gloom of Friday afternoon.

Zapatero, a tus zapateros!” = “Shoemaker, stick to your shoes [or last]!”

i.e. “Stick to what you know about.” – as I told my youngest son.

I was pleased I’d written it down and remembered it. And so I was able to unmute. Later, I even started talking to myself again, which is always a good sign.

Losing my mojo, happiness, writing, cooking, lists, shoes, randomness, COVID-19 lexicon,

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