by I’ve written this post before, more than once if I’m being honest.
The old “what have I been up to/why am I not publicly writing” gig, I’m sure you’ll find it if you poke through my blog.
Most of the time my writing hiatuses are a direct result of being in a “survival” state with mental illness symptoms and writing has to fall to the wayside. However, as I continue to write these posts and examine the times in my life that I’m straying from public writing versus leaning into it, there are patterns. There are always patterns.
I’ve felt shame in the past for the amount I’m not writing as if it’s some sort of achievement to have a consistent blogging schedule. (I mean, while it is nice I’m sure, there’s nothing intrinsically “good” or “bad” about having one versus not having one.) I’m done with feeling shame for the way that I exist in this world. Shame for the type of human experience I’m embodying.
My creativity has always waxed and waned with the various cycles of my life. Mostly they tend to be mood cycles, sometimes they are event cycles, but they are still just cycles. Whether they originate from the inside or the outside doesn’t really matter, it’s all the same. A cycle. The challenge for me is knowing whether or not this is a cycle that I actually need to break or one that’s better to roll with. Like is this a wave of an ocean that, really, I have no choice in changing? Or is this a destructive behavior habit that deserves to be refined as an act of self-love? Hard to know, if I’m being honest.
I also write this in the midst of the Coronavirus outbreak in my part of the world, but really we are all going through this as a global community. My life has shifted a little here and there, but not as much as some people’s lives have. Which, as a deeply spiritual person, has me acutely aware of the fact that somehow amidst a global pandemic, I am on the right path. Don’t ask me how that managed to happen, but it did. My gratitude is insurmountable.
I’ve also been reading more and reading a lot of different topics than I used to read. Historically, I read to escape. Lately, I’ve been filling my head with people, places, and information that feels like it needs to be known. Intuitive reading, I guess? Whatever it’s called I’ve been really enjoying the journey of just taking it all in and not feeling like I need to churn out content on my blog for the sake of revenue or likes or approval.
However, I’ve heard the call to return to my public writing and heed the call I must. I am but a humble servant of whatever muse chooses me and I find myself often tuning them out because I “just don’t have the time” or “what would I even say anyway.” Well turns out, per usual, I have a lot to share and say and write and express. Gee, imagine that.
So here I emerge from my cave once more, a little wiser than the last round, a little less scared, a little more sure of myself and my craft and a lot more determined to maybe… hopefully… one day… sort of have a reliable public writing schedule. But if I don’t, oh well. I know my cycles return when they are meant to.
Cheers to my loyal readers and the people who have kept this blog afloat despite its lack of new content being published. I see the numbers and I’m honestly shocked even one person wants to read my blabbering, never mind that there’s more than one out there. So let’s jump back down the rabbit hole of what I’ve been exploring during my time away. What I’ve been eating, wearing, thinking about, and doing because oh yeah, I am still doing that whole mom thing too and boy, if that doesn’t give you revelation after revelation as a woman and person in the world than I don’t know what does.
Thanks for sticking around this long, let’s see where we can take this.
