Sunday, January 19, 2014

Tooth Brushing

For years I had a normal, manual toothbrush, the kind that moved only with my help. Then one year my mom gave me an electric toothbrush. This one has a timer so I always know whether I have brushed for the full two minutes or not. I don't have to brush for two minutes, I mean technically I am the boss of my own mouth, but most of the time I follow it's advice and wait until the full two minutes is up. I'm old enough now that taking care of my teeth is advisable.

The beginning of my tooth brushing is actually fun. I know I like it, I know I'm doing a service to myself, I'm focused on each tooth and it does feel refreshing. By about MINUTE ONE things start to shift, the toothbrush feels heavy in my hand, I pace around the room, and I drift from tooth-to-tooth, by MINUTE ONE-AND-A-HALF I cannot believe this machine is still going and I wonder (and I do mean every time) if the tooth brush is broken and has forgotten what two minutes is and that it will never come to an end. I'm always tempted to turn it off. ALWAYS.  I mean how important are the last few never ending seconds?

At some point in this daily ritual I realized that this is pretty much sums up how I feel about the writing process, especially the last 30 seconds, where I really have to give myself that final push and reach for the nooks and crannies I'd rather forget about. This revelation was actually helpful to me because now twice a day I'm reminded of this process. From enthusiasm and detail, to restlessness, to wanting to quit and having a feeling that the whole thing is taking too long.  It reminds me to keep going on because really writing and tooth brushing are the same. I just have to get through two minutes or two hours or two days or whatever, but that just like my teeth I will get somewhere by showing up and doing it.