I am re-starting this blog because I’ve fallen out of love with writing.
There. I said it. Or, more appropriately, I wrote it.
It’s been a few years since I’ve written from the heart in any consistent way. There have been millions of observations and musings bouncing around in my brain during this time, but I’ve neglected documenting them. I’ve been so busy doing, doing, doing in other areas of my life, that I haven’t made time to write, just to write.
More specifically, I’ve been too preoccupied with a full-time job and have only taken on writing assignments when a paycheck was attached. My writing time came with a “price.” I stopped writing just for me, just to share, just to (hopefully) inspire others. As a result, I’ve lost touch with my original love of language, my love for words, my love for sculpting them into sentences, passages and stories. It’s become a challenge. It’s become a chore. It’s become un-fun. I’ve fallen into a perpetual state of writer’s block. It sucks. Big time.
I’m positive that I’m not alone in this. So many of us get swept up in the tide of life, and pulled away from the beach that we love, for all sorts of reasons. For some, that “beach” is music or gardening or cooking or teaching. My beach has been writing. I used to love curling up with my journal — and later, my laptop — to document, extrapolate and story-tell. The fact that I’ve drifted so far from this beach makes me no different from everyone else. I’m human. Life happens. Sometimes the important things get put on pause, or forgotten.
The way it happened for me is embarrassing. It’s surprising. It’s sad. It’s frustrating.
But it’s reverse-able. I think it is, anyway. Here’s why.
First: I’m aware of this shift. I watched it happen. I recognize it as something that isn’t positive, isn’t progression. It’s up to me to do something about it, versus remain complacent and do nothing at all.
Second: I can take the advice that I give my yoga students. Namely, when a specific pose is challenging for them, or one side (right or left) is less flexible than the other, I tell them to spend more time on that pose or that “challenging” side. With practice, they’ll improve and soon learn to love the thing they used to hate or fear. I need to apply this advice to my writing.
Third: I now have time to make this a priority. I’m taking the entire month of August “off” to focus on yoga studies and teaching. So if I can allocate at least 30 minutes a day to write, whether it’s on this blog or elsewhere, just for me — then perhaps I can reignite the flame.
Fourth: I’m including my intention in this blog to keep myself accountable. Once promises leave my lips or get written down on paper (or in this case, digitally journaled), I’ve cemented my intention for others to hear and see. I have public motivation to follow through.
It’s crazy — but even writing this post has been a bit of a struggle. Words and ideas and topics and themes that used to come so easily to me, don’t. Where the f*&% did my muse go? I want to reclaim that fluidity because I know that it will help to lead me to where I need to be.
Writing is an important tool in my dharma toolkit that’s just gotten a little rusty — I think, I hope. Let’s see if I can polish it back to its once somewhat-glistening state.
Wish me luck.