I’ve probably blogged a few hundred posts in my mind over the last few months. I just haven’t had the time or been struck with enough gusto to sit down and get myself to write (or write and then post).
Why? Why? Why?
Even this post is taking forever to write.
Maybe I’m afraid?
It’s only ever fear that stops us anyway. Right?
I spent some quality time with one of the members of Our Lived Experience yesterday. I must say she really become a friend. We chatted about our lives and the books we’ve been wanting to pursue. We decided to go old school and dare each other to invest in writing our respective books. 🙂
I used to write during my episodes – I was filled either with elation or bitter anguish and it would fuel my writing. Now that I’m medicated – living in the realms of normal- I feel disheartened. To me, it feels as if I can’t connect with that higher writing power. You know when anything you write is pure gold?
But. There is hope. My friend, the wise one, Ilze, reminded me that writing itself is like a muscle and it needs to be exercised. I need to sit and write with intention. Like I’m doing now. Write with intent. Intent to create. Intent to move and inspire. Intent to heal. To soothe.
I’m surrounded by great writers, creators – and they urge me to bring out the best in all of my crafts.
I have the support.
I can do this.
I was born to fly and to soar.
See you on the flip side.