Things happen. We all know this, but sometimes, we forget.
For the past few weeks, I’ve been stretched pretty thin. It was midterm season – not my favorite time of year – and I found myself clinging to what little sanity I had left by reading instead of writing. This morning, I finished Love, Again by Doris Lessing. It was interesting and I found a few themes that she also shares in Briefing for a Descent into Hell. It was a nice change. Normally, I go straight to the keyboard when I’m about to lose it, but this time I just couldn’t. I had spent several weeks just writing, writing, writing, editing, and more writing. I became taxed. I started to feel like writing was work. Things didn’t flow naturally. It was if I was a walking shade of myself.
Have you ever felt like the thing you loved most was taking over your life and causing you to feel like it was work? That’s exactly what happened last week. I had to take a step back. I had to walk away from the writing and just breathe. I realized that if I kept writing, I would end up hating it, and that’s something that I don’t want to do. I don’t want to ever come close to hating this. Sometimes, I feel like it’s the most important thing I have. My words. Voice. The chance to say something and have people be touched by it.
I don’t know if this blog touches you, or if you even like reading it. You may only check in from time to time just to see what I’m up to because you know me outside of this web address. Or maybe, and I really hope that you do, you enjoy reading my aimless rantings and self-reflections. Either way, thanks for coming – even when I wasn’t around.
Let’s hope I won’t stay too far away. :)