It feels good to be back, sitting here at my desk, typing away on my laptop, getting lost in an afternoon of writing. It just hit me today how much I've missed the comfort I was starting to find in this space, and I'm taking that as a sign that I'm ready to get back in the writing saddle. The past month has been....hmmmm....I'll use the word "interesting" for lack of something more definitive that can do the experiences of the past 4-6 weeks justice. Things were so "interesting" that it was very easy to fall back out the writing habit. It was easy because so much was going on within and around me that, well....it all seemed too cumbersome to try and explain-at least in the state I was in. Some days I didn't have words to express how I felt. Some days, things happened so suddenly, change occurred so very rapidly, I barely had time to process and absorb what was going on before the next event came crashing into my life. In a sense, things just started to run together...I guess if I think about it, I just didn't really have time to breathe, much less time to write meaningful, competent, thoughtful, or just understandable posts. It almost seemed like just when I was getting my writing mojo back, life started to happen in the most unpleasantest of ways, so instead of writing through my experiences, I let life interrupt me. Disrupt a small fraction of peace I had discovered. In essence, except for a post here or there, I let the experiences of the past month or so silence the writer who had been resurrected in me.
I guess I didn't want to say (ie write) the wrong thing, or publish something I would later regret. To be honest, I've been in a pretty volatile emotional & mental space these past weeks, and again, just didn't know how well that would translate in my writing, so....I just took a step back, I just got off the horse.
But, now that the emotional hurricane has been slowly downgrading over the past week or so and because I started making some constructive changes, I'm finding my writer's voice speaking loud and clear again. The desire, the urgency I feel to sit down and sprawl words upon paper or clickety-clak out on a keyboard is pressing again.
I recognized this fact about my desire to write when I was 19 and I was reminded of it again this afternoon during my drive home: writing is my method to the madness that is my life. Everybody's got one-some have fitness, some do some kind of recreational activity, some have a hobby, some see a therapist, some have music, some have religion...everybody's got some form or maybe multiple forms of dealing with their lives and the peaks & valleys that come with it. Writing is mine. Holding words hostage on paper (or electronically on a document) is my way of processing and just getting outside of my own head sometimes. I love it. I've missed it. I'm sad I almost gave up on it again.
It feels so good to be back.