Last night I woke up in the middle of the night with someone else's arm underneath me (not my husband's). I panicked. Whose arm was this? Why was it in my bed?
It took me a few groggy seconds to realize it was my own arm. But it had fallen completely asleep. I've had limbs fall asleep before, but never anything like this. It felt like jello was attached to my shoulder. I couldn't feel or move it. The thought, "am I going to lose my arm?" came to my mind and I nearly screamed.
Of course, it took a second (longer than normal, mind you - this arm was really asleep), but I soon felt the blood rushing back into my hand. It was a strange experience, almost like I could feel all of my blood vessels that had previously been empty and on the verge of dying refill with life.
I'm happy to say I have a working arm today. But I can't help but think the experience was my body/mind/subconscious trying to tell me something.
Lately, I've awoken from a writing slumber. I've always considered myself a writer, but in the past few years thought maybe I'd just run out of ideas, that I had nothing to say. It took an online course given by Mark McGuinness (thanks Mark) to help me realize that I was a creative person and I would never be content in a boring, unchallenging 9 to 5 job (such as the ones I'd recently interviewed for).
I'm right handed, so the loss of my right hand would have been pretty debilitating. It may have even quelled my desire to write (at least for a while). Could this have been what Steven Pressfield (author of The War of Art and more recently Do the Work), calls Resistance*? Could certain forces been trying to stop me from writing by taking away my most useful writing tool - my right arm?
It won't work. Not this time.
*In his book, The War of Art: Break Through the Blocks and Win Your Inner Creative Battle, Steven Pressfield defines Resistance as the naysayer within that creates roadblocks for any creative endeaver. This internal foe must be defeated to achieve the greatest success and reach the highest level of creative discipline.