I dwell in possibility

I haven’t been writing recently because I couldn’t. Journaling led my mind down unhelpfully distracting bunny trails; stories stagnated after the first line or two; frustrations over minor setbacks roadblocked my blogging.

Maybe you’ve been in this kind of situation. You think it’s writers block or something only mastered by pushing through and continuing to write. That’s what I thought, but when my inability to write only grew, I knew the reason was something I’d never encountered.

So I followed the only logical path and stopped writing. I hardly even tweeted original thoughts, leaving my feed to pass along information from other people I wanted to share. I embraced the lack of writing in my life (although begrudgingly) and opted instead to think through the potential causes, to reconnect with friends I made not online, to make new friends.

The distance from my current way of life showed me that the possibilities were happening so fast they were overwhelming my ability to organize my thoughts. TCA moved so fast that I had more opportunities than I knew what to do with, new options for sharing my writing kept appearing, everyone had a great idea that I wanted to help with all at once, and I had so many stories running through my head I couldn’t tell them apart.

I know for many people these kinds of moments make life exciting. And it was exciting. But I hadn’t prepared for the onslaught of possibility, and so I was overwhelmed.

But the time away from everything, especially those that I love and make my life fantastic, gave my brain the space it needed to get itself organized.

So now I can dwell in possibility, embracing life and what I love.

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2 thoughts on “I dwell in possibility”

  1. Glad you embraced the opportunity to not write for a little while. I know people who live a cloistered existence, with noses buried in books and scribbling away. Life experience is critical to any creative pursuit and for those who deprive themselves of interaction and new stimuli , they’re depriving themselves of the ability to draw upon life as a muse.

    Sometimes it’s hard to give yourself the space because of guilt, and pressure to always be accessible via social media & technology. It’s quite annoying when people don’t understand that you do have a life outside of writing.

  2. Sometimes when you go slowly, a single dancer will emerge from the chorus line and tell you something you desperately need to know – before you can go any further with life. Let it have its solo. Then you can enjoy the rest of the show.

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