As mentioned in a previous post, I’m struggling with writer’s block, so when my turn came to write for this site, I panicked–for obvious reasons. I spent the last few days pretty much in my head, trying to figure out something–anything–that I could write about and create a decent post.
I came up with . . . a lot of nothing. Random thoughts appeared in my head like soap balloons, and exactly like them they burst open before they could stick for longer than a few seconds. I paced, took long walks, short walks, got up in the middle of the night and paced some more. My thoughts come and go, without being related to the previous thought, or the next one. It’s an explosion of color if you will, but nothing concrete, nothing worth noting or clear enough to form something decent.
So . . .
It’s time I just acknowledge the full-blown development of my writer’s block, encompassing my brain like the nuclear mushroom over Nagasaki and Hiroshima. It’s time I face it instead of fighting it or denying it. I was told, accepting it doesn’t mean defeat but rather a step closer to . . . healing.
Whatever it is, and wherever this journey takes me, I feel its effects, I live through every empty emotion and watch its tentacles rooting in what once was the fertile soil of my creativity.
To those of you whose Muse sticks around and gives you that nudge to create, don’t take her for granted. Use her presence to create whatever your souls desire–that novel you thought about writing for the last two decades, or that song repeating in your head over and over again, or that sculpture your fingers can feel it form before its formed. There’s a void in your soul only creativity can fill, don’t let it waste but rather hug your Muse tightly and let her take over. Here and now, that’s all you have. Tomorrow might be too late . . .