because I'm not writing...
>> Friday, July 29, 2011
...feelings and moods meld, muddying colors into indistinguishable pools of gunk that glob together and splotch up my view.
...the nagging murmurs remain within earshot but too garbled for me to understand.
...the random bits of information I do blurt out are only those bubbles that float to the surface, and the underlying denser things stay hidden below, in the dark under-waters like shadowed blobs where I can't make quite make out their shape or size.
...all the little things I'm thinking/worrying/bitching about fill the space around me with lights flashing rather than reveal themselves as stars in a constellation. I see them scattered but the big picture doesn't emerge.
...I'm stuck up here at this discursive level, this choppy surface where I bob about in the waves, and I can't sink down to the lakebed to see where the wave starts rolling.
Because I'm not writing, I'm not connecting the dots or following the spiral and I'm not making sense of anything and so what's here instead are just unarticulated feelings and senses and a whole lot of restlessness.
Writing would help. Sleep, too. And yet I surrender to resistance one more night and go to bed with it all swirling madly, none of it making particular sense.
6 comments:
It's hard for a busy mom to keep up on her writing...you're not alone. I love the part about "surrendering." We all need to surrender.
I wish I could say I have no idea what you're talking about, but I know this state of mind far too well. I'm kindof in the same spot with the not-writing. For what it's worth, you did a beautiful job describing the angst and restlessness of not-writing.
I've felt the same lately :) Thanks for sharing your heart!
I've written less this summer than in the past 2.5 years. You are going to laugh, but I never realized before that writing was a compulsion for me (as well as everything wonderful).
It feels scary to back off from it right now.
Have fun with Steph and give her a huge hug for me!
i sit down to write and then all of a sudden realize i've spent a half hour working on my amazon wish list. *sigh*
I really get this too. I forget too easily how much sense-making I get out of writing. I treasure the way that constellations emerge and dots start to connect (those those images) and wonder why I don't carve out the time to treat myself to writing more often.
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