I’ve felt this desire to write lately. Some ideas would bubble to the surface then quickly vanish before a second thought could be given. Or maybe I’d get pulled into work, a group text chain, or the desire to just relax in front of the TV. Whatever may have caused the idea to drift away, it happened and more time continues to go by without words hitting a page.
My writing has become something that’s almost a foreign friend lately. I may sit down to write a meditation or journal on some limiting beliefs, but what about my desire to tell a story, to strike an emotion, to help inspire someone? That’s been a distant concept.
So then I guess the question right now is why am I actually sitting down to write right now? Great question and one I don’t have the answer to except that I’m in a weird headspace today. I woke up groggy (not uncommon for this season of my life), pushed through a workout, showered, and logged into work. I knocked a few things off my to-do list but when it came time to sit down and do the tasks that don’t have to be done immediately, I didn’t care and that’s when I noticed the shift.
Maybe it’s the gray skies today. Maybe it’s the looking ahead to an upcoming 5th-wheel scenario. Maybe it’s the frustration with trying to date (not to mention date in a global pandemic). Maybe it’s trying to get excited for my birthday this weekend but feeling like I’m trying to do it for everyone else because they think I should be. Maybe it’s the desire to travel or just overall roam free. Maybe it’s the anticipation of results from bloodwork I had done last week that I pray brings more answers to my never ending health questions. Maybe it’s the general sense of not being fulfilled in my work. Maybe it’s the feeling of being in such a different place in life from every single person I love and the loneliness that comes with it.
Maybe it’s all of it. Maybe it’s none of it.
So as I sat down to transcribe one of my meditations (because for the life of me can’t find the written file of it), I felt the urge to open a blank document and first get all this jumble out on the page. To be determined if I open myself up to share these words with anyone other than myself. I guess if you’re reading this now, I did. (Hi!)
There are some cool things that I’m doing right now, despite all the vague weirdness. There’s steps I’m taking to live the life that I dream of living and that sets my soul on fire. There are steps I’m taking to connect more, meet new people, explore, and improve my situations. There are interesting books I’ve read and have lined up to read. There are fun events and people to celebrate this year.
…but still a part of me wondering when I will get the chance to be celebrated? My birthday is less than a week away, but that I don’t have the excitement to celebrate. The chance that I do get to be celebrated and I find myself wishing for it to pass by. Maybe I expect others to forget.
There’s always the chance this is the workings of my second COVID birthday. The aftermath of more than a year in a pandemic and while there’s light at the end of the tunnel, that journey still feels so far off and complicated.
Maybe it’s the feeling like COVID just keeps getting closer and closer, and I’m starting to get claustrophobic. As someone who already can feel that way from time to time, it was only a matter of time before I felt that way (again); before I wished for freedom, an open road, a new location and scenery.
I accept that my words are jumbled and far from perfect. I accept that this isn’t what blogging looks like or is “supposed” to look like these days. I accept that I am and we all are a constant work in progress on this journey through life. I accept that this is just the start of the mess of returning to writing again.
