Restlessness and Hot Water

I like to make taking a nice, hot bath a habit. I don’t mean I take one once a month in addition to my daily shower. No, I mean that if I have time off from school and start to feel restless, I will take a hot bath everyday. Most often I am accompanied by a book of my choice, mainly nonfiction or how-to. I let the water gush steaming into the tub, warm up the spot where my back will rest, and sink down with my book held aloft and in a nervous vice grip.

Half the time I don’t even stay in the water long because I start to sweat, and that seems counterproductive. So I typically spend a quarter of an hour soaking in the water and sometimes the bubbles while I read the majority of an essay.
Wondering what my point is? Pretty much this: from time to time, we humans get a little antsy.

Personally, I am a notorious fidgeter, and my friends and family rightly complain that this makes me a horrible companion at the movie theater. (I will inevitably get stuck with the oldest and squeakiest chair in the whole cinema. I swear. It’s science.)

But I don’t just get antsy in the my-leg-is-going-numb-and-I-think-this-is-what-a-stroke-feels-like way. I often get restless when it comes to how I live my life on a daily basis. I start to wonder if what I’m doing is really worth the time and effort it takes to do it. And often times I think it’s not, that I’m just wasting my time and should go do something more important.

Then I remember something a good friend of mine recently told me. During an emotional crisis, I called him just to have someone feel sympathy for me (something I firmly suggest to anyone in an emotional crisis). He said a lot of wonderful, kind, and touching things to me, but the thing that will stay with me for the rest of my life is what he said in regards to our mutual love of writing and my tireless goal of seeing my words published.

“Sarah-Rachael, whenever I feel like giving up on writing and like I’ll never be any good, think of you. You’ve written, what, five books, and you’re only eighteen. You’re amazing, and I need you around. I need you, because you are my motivation to keep writing.”

I paraphrased a bit, but you get the gist. It doesn’t matter if people out there don’t know my name yet. I inspire and motivate someone dear to me, and that is more than enough to keep my butt in my chair and my pen in my hand even if my leg does start to fall asleep.
And if it does, I’ll soak in some hot water and remind myself that the restlessness will pass.


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