The Drain Backs Up

I never regretting having gone for a run. Our shower drain backed up last night. These two thoughts frame my morning.

I filled the first of my Morning Pages with the tale of our shower drain backing up, filling the stall with black sludge. This happened after the hardware stores had all closed. Plunging made things worse. I tried the snake but never can make it work. I ended up using vinegar, baking soda, and boiling water. That did the trick. Writing a page about it, I realized there was nothing much in it for a reader.

It has been three weeks since I ran. My weight is up and my clothes pull. My back is sore. I’m sluggish. I want to run, but let things get in the way. After Morning Pages, I wrote in my notebook about inertia and how I haven’t run, then wrote, here I go, capped the pen, changed into running clothes, and went out. I don’t regret it.

Good for me, but what about it matters to you?

I have students read How To Write About Trauma, a New York Times story that includes this line: “Not every troubling or difficult thing you have experienced will be interesting to someone who doesn’t know you.” My tub drain is of no real interest to a friend let alone a stranger. My thought about running might amount to a bumper sticker, but there has to be more for readers to dig into. Stuck on the drain and run, I’m trying to tumble to some connecting idea.

I have a record on the turntable. Paul Desmond and Gerry Mulligan’s Two Of A Mind. My mother in law, happy that I enjoy records, can’t understand going to the trouble herself. I could stream the music from my phone to the amp and speakers. I wouldn’t have to pull an album from the shelf and out of its sleeve, clean it, check the needle and drop it into the groove. I wouldn’t have to get up to flip and clean the record. She can’t be bothered with records and I don’t blame her, but I like work of cleaning a record and checking the needle. I like getting up to flip to the second side. It feels good to me and it’s a good habit of mind.

Our shower drain is clear because I did some maintenance. I have noted in my planner to maintain the drain next month. I went out for a run to get over inertia. That run won’t transform my body any more than baking soda and vinegar will give us new pipes, but maintenance is beautiful and makes life better. I’m not about drain cleaning or running; I’m all about maintenance and how small acts can extend life and make everything work better. That’s also why I write Morning Pages every single morning.

Maintenance isn’t sexy and writing about it isn’t likely to draw a giant audience. It’s a small idea but not too small. The idea of doing small, regular things is one that can go places. It’s the basis of healthy living, good parenting, writing and making art, and a way toward changing the world. It’s not whiz bang, but it’s true.

I ran. I took a shower. The drain ran clear. I felt healthy. I did maintenance on the pipes and my body. Nothing spectacular, but it might be enough to give you a new idea. And that’s enough for me.