Writing Insights on Outlooks

It’s weird when something so seemingly insignificant as a sheet of plastic covering windows can totally change a person’s outlook on life. (No pun intended.) (I think…)

You already know how much influence sunshine has on my mindset. I seek it like an addict, even though I’m trying to be responsible while indulging and always use sunscreen. You know, just spread a thin film of the greasy white stuff on my skin so I can still enjoy the sun without making my dermatologist a millionaire. It tends to put a damper on everything, but hey, it’s necessary.

So is the film over our windows. We just replaced our old, leaky windows with new ones, and are having the exterior of our house stained. If we don’t want our pretty new windows stained, they have to be covered. Hence, the film.

Here’s the thing, though.

We built our house in this particular spot to take advantage of the views. Really. We are blessed with a great view in every direction. The first thing I do in the morning is stare out windows, just to breathe in the world and center myself.

This has become such a habit, I even do it when I travel. I find myself searching for a way to open the heavy room-darkening curtain panels, then peeling back layers of window covering, hoping to see what waits for me on the other side. I know that peering from a hotel window is not always rewarding. Looking down at the garbage bins or the AC unit on the building next door doesn’t exactly provide inspiration to step into my day like watching the deer down at the creek.

But right now, I can’t see the creek.

I see very vague, blurry shapes of color and light and shadow. Although the plastic on the windows lets the light in, it’s filtered. I have this vague sense of overcast-ness (yes that’s a new word. I do that sometimes.) as though the day is cloudy, and I might as well curl up with my blanket and sleep.

Amazed at how profoundly having my windows covered is affecting me, I thought perhaps I should try to gain some insight from this experience.

Since I’ve already confessed my addiction to sunlight, I should probably come clean and let you know that claustrophobia is also a thing for me. Enclosed spaces are not the best option if I am supposed to breathe. Perhaps my current state is just a form of claustrophobia.

Or perhaps the inability to see out has brought the inside into focus. Was I so used to looking out the window that I completely overlooked the interior? There’s a lot of dust, the pictures hang crooked on the wall, and maybe it’s time to replace those curtains. I hadn’t realized how faded they are.

Only I’m not inspired to dust or straighten pictures. And who cares about the curtains? I just want to escape! NOW!

(Remind you of anything? Like a pandemic quarantine?)

I remember someone saying once that rainy days turned their thoughts inward, and what they found there was not very pleasing.

Is that what’s happening? Is that why I quickly walk to the door every morning and throw it wide open so I can look out and breathe? Is being shut in with myself that suffocating?

(Oh, my poor husband. No wonder he wants to go fishing.)

Maybe I need to pay some attention to the interior instead of rushing to look toward the horizon.

I wonder if I’m doing the same thing with my writing. I’m concentrating so hard on getting published that perhaps I’m missing the aspect of being a writer that I should focus on now. Maybe I need to get cozy just a little while longer, concentrate on creating new word pictures, and dust off those writing skills.     

The plastic is due to come off, soon. When the light streams in, my outlook will be better if the interior is in order.  

Is your focus where it should be? Have any goals you’re working on? Want to share?