I’ve gotta shoot straight with you, dear reader. I am running on reserves when it comes to inspiration. Even the cool morning and lack of normally screeching cattle do not seem to be helping that well replenish itself this morning. I feel an almost tangible discontent. Mainly with myself.
I am someone who thinks. Constantly. I dreamed about work last night. My brain never stops. I wish I could say that this was due to some genius mind that I possess, but no. It has more to do with anxiety, and the constant need to feel in control.
I could go deep into the recesses of myself for the writing muse, but, to be perfectly honest, I don’t wanna. Because going there also means visiting some places that I don’t have time to stop and sit a spell. So I just dont go. I don’t “delve”.
I get up. Drink my coffee. Go to work. Cook. Watch Downton Abbey and The Office. Avoid social media. Read fiction. And I don’t “delve”.
If racing thoughts burned calories, I’d be invisible. So, to maintain my 3D body, for now, I just avoid the difficult things.
I can’t do it forever. I won’t. Eventually I’ll have to spend some time with me, myself and I, and just let my brain have it’s own way. But right now, I’m not going there.
The things that await me are mainly the stuff over which I have no control, but would worry me anyway. Parenting stuff. Relationship stuff. The future.
You can call it “denial” I suppose, but I prefer to think of it as “anxiety procrastination”.
In all likelihood, I am setting myself up for a wave of unnecessary depression or some mental funk somewhere down the line. But the fact of the matter is, I simply don’t have the time to mentally sort through the garbage.
There are things in life that I can take one day, one thing at a time. Others, not so much. I have yet to learn how to separate the inspiration from many of the dark and lonely places I sometimes travel to get there.
Occasionally, I’m lucky. A writing idea will surprise me and practically write itself. But those instances are few and far between.
So in the meantime, if what you’re reading from me sounds like nonsense, it’s because that’s what it is, mostly.
Every meaningful post takes something out of me. Usually, in a good way. But there are times when it’s not and the journey to those those posts can be painful and exhausting.
So in the meantime, I’m just being. And letting the muse come to me, as she will occasionally, without prompting.