Brain Fog

 

 

Drawing a Blank

“The phrase ‘drawing a blank’ means failing to recall a memory; in other words, it means being unable to remember something.”

Ky Phrase Website

          More and more lately, I am drawing a blank—I will try to remember a name, or a person, or some event in time, and it is as though I can see it or them, surrounded by silence, and a sort of brain-fog separates us. No name comes, though I’m sure I know it; a word escapes like it’s running for the exits, but I can see it in my peripheral vision. It’s a real pain in the patootie because it interrupts the flow of conversation and causes me to flounder around for a substitute. I’m blaming age, though I know people older than I who don't have it.

          This sort of lapse happens with writing, too. I have a rule for myself of sitting down every day and writing for at least an hour—and there are days when this is easy and quick, and days when it’s like pulling hen’s teeth. All stories flee from my mind, and even the ones I thought might be interesting look shabby and shapeless. I tell myself no one wants to hear that boring story. I wonder if you do this too.

          Here is a story for you—hopefully not one of those boring ones: Yesterday, a friend named Susan, with whom I’ve been corresponding for years, emailed me, and asked if we could meet for coffee. She lives “up-state” and was in town to see family. We had never met in person—until yesterday. In the middle of a “getting to know you” conversation, while sitting at a table outside the coffee shop, a security guard sauntered up to us, and said, “You ladies (which is what southern gentlemen call women with gray hair) are being altogether too quiet, so I know you’re up to something.” We responded, in kind, “Only the overthrow of the world. Don’t worry about it.” And he said, “Well you wouldn’t have to do that if we didn’t have such a stupid person running the country.” Boom! We went from good-natured joking around to political divide in under thirty seconds. That’s where we are, folks. Why he would assume that two older women would agree with his politics, I don’t know. Perhaps that sort of trash talk has replaced, “how are you—I’m fine”  

          Today, between the killer heat and the angry divisions, I am drawing a blank about what to write that might be positive. It feels as though all the words have been spoken; all the analyses, drawn; all explanations, rendered. But nothing penetrates the defenses of either side. So, I’ll just close with the words of author and therapist, Shannon L. Adler: “Fear is the glue that keeps you stuck. Faith is the solvent that sets you free.” At least, I can agree with that.

                                                  In the Spirit,

                                                  Jane