A friend told me about a trick used by his grandmother, a farmer. When her brooding hens stopped laying eggs, she would put them in pillowcases that she then hung from a clothesline in a stiff breeze. After the hens got blown around for a while, she returned them to their cozy digs. The experience didn't hurt them, and she swore it put them back on track with their egg-laying. I'm not comfortable with this strategy. It's too extreme for an animal-lover like myself. (And I'm glad I don't have to deal with recalcitrant hens.) But maybe it’s an apt metaphor or poetic prod for your use right now. What could you do to stimulate your own creative production?

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