Two weeks ago I had an attack of labyrinthitis. It came out of the blue, one moment I was watching Lucy having a fitting for her wedding dress, the next the room began to spin. Luckily it didn't last long so I managed the journey home on the train. It wasn't until later that evening that the true horror set in. By Sunday morning I could not get out of bed. I was sick and dizzy, I couldn't read, or bear any light. I lay there in the semi dark feeling rather scared and very, very sorry for myself.
This lasted for about three days, until finally the pills the lovely Dr.Kahn prescribed kicked in and I could stagger drunkenly down stairs to lie in front of day time TV. This was all I could manage. No reading, no writing, nothing for a whole week.
Strangely enough, however, those days were some of the most productive, creatively, that I've had in a long time. Stories flooded my imagination. It was as if I needed the break from the computer and any other stimulation to free the creative processes.
Perhaps we all need this sort of break. Not the being ill bit, I wouldn't wish that on anyone, but the down time to give the creative side of the brain the time and space to flower.