It’s raining outside my window at the Iron Bank coffee shop on 11th and Broadway in Columbus, Georgia. I have missed this alone time so much. Oh, so much.
Unfortunately, I don’t have any new material for my book or creative pieces to offer at the moment. It has taken me over a week to squeeze in two hours of alone time, to enjoy a cup of espresso and be at peace with my keyboard.
Besides finding time to be alone, I have been searching for peaceful and calm thoughts in a stressful environment.
On my flight here from Maryland 10 days ago, I realized that the next time I would enter an aircraft, I would be exiting it 2,500 feet above the ground with a parachute strapped to my back.
You’re insane, Brain 1 said. Why would you volunteer to go airborne?
The answers unraveled naturally, as if this entire conversation with myself was an argument I couldn’t win.
The promotion points, said Brain 2. Think about those 30 points! The exciting stories you could cover! The maroon beret and the badassery!
Brain 1 almost won a few days ago when I was cooped up in the barracks all day, thinking about the hazards of my choice. After speaking with a few other soldiers, Brain 2 kicked in and sucker punched Brain 1 to the ground.
So here I am, two days of training and five jumps to go before I graduate from airborne school in the army.
I don’t know what lies ahead in this next week. (Disclaimer: I am ditsy. I may just slip out of the freaking plane or let the jumpmaster push me.)
Besides the stress from my own thoughts mingling with the sight of countless injured soldiers from training, I am back to my main love.
The poor thing is collecting dust, suffocating inside the locker I store away my life in. My story is like a child tugging on my jacket for an ice cream cone. So badly do I want to pick it up and treat it to a freaking Dairy Queen, but airborne school is taking up so much of my time and energy that I must leave the child with a babysitter. Er, I mean my book… in the locker…
What I’m trying to say is that I haven’t given up on writing the book. It’s there, but to give it the attention it deserves means waiting until I have finished this chapter of my life in training.
I hate sounding selfish and steering away from my book to focus on myself, especially with this self-reflective post. But I cannot give my book the attention it deserves if I haven’t given myself some room to breathe.
I’m not certain if there will ever be a scene or character involving a paratrooper, but some things are bound to find their way into the story through avenues I haven’t even ventured down in my mind yet.
It’ll be exciting when that time comes. I predict that I’ll be celebrating with my two besties, Ben & Jerry.