Never Give-up on Something You Can't Go a Day Without Thinking About*

So the saying goes.

I cannot go a day without thinking about writing, without writing in my head, without a burning feeling of what I could be. Often I can't go a few hours without thinking about writing.
Yet... I don't show up. I don't even journal anymore, and the pain of not doing so has grown and grown. It has created a sort of emotional constipation.

Ouch.

I have always felt better when I write, and I began writing for myself for this reason. It helps me work through the experience of living as a human being. It helps me to connect to my deeper self, to my higher understanding, to my creative being. I kept a few journals as a child and teenager, but stopped when I couldn't find a hiding place good enough to keep my mother out of them. What teenager wants to be confronted by their mother's bitter anger at what lies in their deepest, most personal thoughts?

I couldn't not write though. Around the time I was 14 I began keeping a journal in my sketchbook, which inevitably led to illustrating my entries. It was a wonderful, necessary daily practice. Outside of that I relished the days when an essay was assigned at school. It was a chance to stretch my writing legs for assessment, and I loved it. I loved writing, and I needed to draw.
These things felt integral to my survival, yet I didn't consider myself a writer or an artist.
I never considered going to college for either of these things; choosing science instead. (blah!) When in college I was exempted from taking any composition classes, but chose to take them anyway. My thoughts on this were that I was lacking education on writing, not that I enjoyed writing enough to choose to take a series of classes that I had tested out of because I cared whether or not I was reaching my potential even if it did not outwardly seem to matter.

I realize now how important it is to me. I realize how much of myself has fallen asleep in the absence of my creative practice. I know now, how much I need these things. It is that knowing that has blocked me. Once I realized how very much I wanted this in my life, and how successful I had been at every turn with them, I clammed up. And there I have been for a couple of years now, and ultimately I feel a bit like an emotional, creative dump site.

My hope is that each of those ignored passions, thoughts, and inspirations have composted into something rich that I can use to feed my creative urges. My hope is that some have simply ripened or matured and may find their way into the world in a more beautiful form.

I'm trying to show up to my life in a more real way again. I'm working to letting myself be who I am again. I working to simply walk through the barriers and walls of ignored pains to live my life out loud again.

Somewhere over the years I lost touch with myself and lost faith in the inherent value of self expression.

Let's count this as Day One of Showing Up.

Let's pray that Day Two comes close on it's heels.

Perhaps the difficulties of having one foot in to very different lifestyles would be more easily managed if I had been writing about it. :-p

The gardens, which produced so well for us this summer, are being turned in and composted for next year. The wood is piling up around the house. The snow has fallen heavily twice. The holiday season is officially kicked off, and I have seen three of my four most loved family members. I'm deeply into an extremely esoteric, yet scholarly class that will lead to more classes. My prayers for deeper connections with admirable women are being answered in big and small ways. I'm trying my hand at a bit of fiction and illustration. Ooooh, big scary feelings about that one!

It's good. And when it's not, it's still beautiful.

Have you worked through creative blocks? Are you dealing with them? Having trouble showing up for something you can't stop thinking about? Please share. I savor the wisdom that has been offered up here over the years.

xoxo