No, I haven’t lost it. It’s just that there’s nothing to write about this early in the morning. Nothing has happened yet to inspire a slice. Sure, I’ve woken from a restful sleep. I’ve filled and emptied my lungs over and over. My heart has beat and beat and beat. My eyelids have blinked back the burning and brightness for almost ten minutes now, but where is the slice? I look for it like playing hide and seek with my niece at the end of the day: Cami hides and we go find her. Is she behind the door? Noooo. Is she under the table? Noooo.
So where is this slice? Is it in the sound of the heater that just kicked on, urging me to put two feet on the floor? Nooo. Is it in the spotlight effect that this phone has on my face as I lie here swyping word after word? Noooo. Or in the worry I have every morning before I know for sure that everyone is still breathing. Noooo. (Though that last line was enough to get me out of bed. I’ve checked. We’re good.)
Is it in the extra drip, drip, drip that joins the spray of the shower? The burnt-out bulb above the bathroom mirror? The dirty clothes that almost made it into the clothes basket? No. No. Noooo.
And like a toddler, I can feel the game turning to tantrum. This game has gone on far too long. I’m starting to forget what I was looking for in the first place. Please, jump out at me, I think. Before I forget why I’m even looking!
I’ve stopped looking and now I’m seeing them. Everywhere. And I’m celebrating like a toddler, too: There it is! A slice in the ninja skills that just kept the earring from disappearing down the bathroom drain.
There it is! In the umpteen alarms that remind me to do the smallest things like wake people up, feed the fish, and write my slice.
There it is! At the top of this page. In the breaths. The beats. The blinking, burning, and the brightness. The possibilities are all there. I just had to stop looking and allow the moments to come together, painting a picture of just that: possibility.
I’m participating in the Slice of Life Challenge over at Two Writing Teachers.