Because Sometimes the World Feels Dark

 

Hey, guys.

Here in the Northern Hemisphere, the days are getting shorter. Leaves are beginning to fall from the trees. Breezes are losing their summer warmth. Night skies are getting colder and clearer.

It’s lovely, isn’t it?

Look, I know that sometimes things seem so dark. I know that the nightly news and Facebook and Twitter and pretty much any media you can find is screaming about how the human race appears to be trying to eat itself alive.

It’s an election year here in the States. Election years are, as a general rule, ugly ones. This one feels worse than most. There seems to be so much anger fueling this cycle. So much hate. Loads and loads of fear. For folks like me, who struggle with serious anxiety, it can be too much. I don’t watch the news anymore, and I hardly exist on social media because it’s just. Too. Much.

You know what’s not too much? The miles and miles of blue sky above us. The rumble of thunder during a chilly autumn thunderstorm. The swarms of starlings as they dance in the fall air. The smile of a stranger whose eyes just happened to catch yours in the check out line. The small, warm sense of satisfaction when you pay for the car behind you in the drive-through. Laughing over coffee with friends. Sitting alone at three a.m., contemplating the full moon.

If darkness is looming–and sometimes it sure feels like it is–then each of us can be a star shining in that night. Maybe we can’t overcome it by ourselves, but we can each pierce it by living truthfully in our giftings, by acting out of a sense of good. Do something to leave the world a little better today than it was yesterday. Even if what you have to offer feels infinitesimal (maybe nothing more than holding the door for a stranger, or heck–getting out of bed. On the days when my anxiety is at a fever pitch, getting out of bed can feel like a Herculean victory). The smallest pebble dropped into water leaves ripples far beyond its physical reach.

Be kind to yourself. Be kind to those around you. Kindness is always a good idea.

As always, loads of love,

myndired

 

 

 

 

Fifteen Things

Fifteen things that are happening right now, at this very moment:

  1. I’m working on my second glass of wine.
  2. I have plans on completing a third and possibly fourth glass tonight.
  3. I am feeling very, very grateful for the lovely reviews that have been left for my books over the past couple of days. If that was you, thanks a million.
  4. I am working–very steadily–on rebranding the Shrilugh Saga, and one of the things that means is…
  5. Book four is in the pipeline.
  6. My container tomatoes are finally producing.
  7. Even though it’s a teeny-tiny little crop, those drops of red sunshine make me insanely happy.
  8. I already have the dedication for book four in the works. You know who you are.
  9. Second glass of wine is perilously close to being finito.
  10. My boys just got in from a jaunt down to the public library. #theylovethelibrary
  11. I am in the process of re-reading (with the help of Grammarly, gulp) the first two books of Shrilugh. Man, my writing has come a long way since that first release. Very grateful for a sweet audience who has been willing to let me grow.
  12. Second glass of wine is gone.
  13. Going downstairs to procure third glass.
  14. Cicadas are buzzing outside my window. They are hypnotic.
  15. My hands smell like the herbs I cut this evening–sage and rosemary and basil and mint. Somebody needs to make a perfume like this because I would wear that stuff SO HARD.

I hope the things happening in your world, at this moment, are every bit as pleasant as mine.

Loads of love,

blue

 

Honesty, Writer’s Block

Ohmygod, writer’s block.

I’ve been sitting at my desk for twenty minutes, resting my chin on my coffee cup (back slumped in atrocious posture), breathing in the familiar roasty smell of java (taken black, always black), trying to find words to put out into the ether. This is my routine every morning.

Nothing comes. I eventually give up, go make my bed, and get on with my day.

Today I fight a little harder. I glance around my desk (as best as I can without moving my chin, because the warm steam from my coffee is comforting), trying to think. I used to have so many ideas! I used to be so full of cleverness and thoughtfulness and humor! Now I’m looking at my stapler wondering if I can simply describe it and call that good enough.

It’s black. And green. With a little silver. EVERYBODY GIVE IT UP FOR THE BEST BLOG POST EVER.

Ohmygod, writer’s block. It’s tragic.

It’s been months since I’ve had a thought that felt original. The world is a mess. The world is beautiful. And so many people are typing out their thoughts about this beautiful, messy world. I can’t seem to stitch three words together about it. I feel, to be sure. I feel sad, and awed, and frightened, and hopeful. We, as humanity, are lost; and yet, all hope is not lost.

I take a sip of my coffee. Ohmygod, writer’s block.

My kids are bustling downstairs, doing their chores and looking forward to their day. We’ll pop by and see their dad at work. We’ll deliver a freshly baked pecan pie to their papa. We’ll crash indoors through the hottest part of the day. We’ll go the pool in the late afternoon, and tonight we’ll celebrate the solstice by staying up as late as we want, reveling in the longest day under a full moon. We will be loud and wild and it will be a day to keep.

But in the back of my head, the whispers will be there: Writer’s block, writer’s block. I’m becoming paranoid.

Jesse’s story is nudging me away from the mesmerizing void of writer’s block (once you’ve encountered the block it will keep you in its thrall until your force your way back out), and I’m so grateful for her. But my confidence is shaken. Words have never come as easy to me as they do other writers I know (“The stories just tumble out of my brain!” they shout with glee. “If I don’t write it down the characters pester me until I do!”)–my stories require a lot of interior excavation, and even when I find what I’m looking for it doesn’t exactly cooperate. What if I don’t have what it takes anymore? What if I never did in the first place? What if I never catch up with my peers?

Well, hello there, fear. Nice to see you, pride. Blarg.

I just swallowed my last gulp of coffee. It’s time to get on with my day. Looks like I found words to put out into the ether after all, and although they maybe weren’t eloquent or original, at least they were honest.

Hm. Honesty. The cure for writer’s block? Maybe.

We shall see.

Loads of love,

teal