I recently enjoyed a delicious dinner with my friend, Allison, whom I refer to as a real writer. She is a published and paid writer, hence, she has more than earned the moniker of real writer. After not writing for over month, the only things that I have earned are cobwebs on my keyboard and in my mind. Okay, now back to my dinner with Allison.
Our conversation turned to the topic of writing, and I addressed my absence from the blogosphere. I think I’ve lost my mojo, and I haven’t able to write. Because I’m happy. I laughed as I said it, and Allison reassured me that one had nothing to do with the other, but I had my doubts. Had my newfound happiness really caused my creative mojo to go missing? Spoiler alert: the answer is no.
It was an obvious answer actually, as musings about some of the happy and positive events in my life coincide peacefully on the pages of my blog with some of the more painful and challenging moments. I have written, regardless of whether I am happy or not, and yet, something was different this time.
Since the beginning of the new year, I have watched my life take shape in unexpected, but welcomed, ways. Ways that have left me feeling truly happy . . .and hesitant to share the details of said happiness. Every time that I tried to transform my thoughts and feelings into written words, I edited myself until I erased the potential words completely.
As my blog remained silent, my frustration with myself as an editor grew. Finally, I realized that I was not experiencing another bout of writer’s block, but I was experiencing subtle, yet familiar, feelings that resurface from time to time. It became apparent that I was reluctant to write about this happy series of events, because I feared that I may be seen as not worthy or undeserving by others and, even, myself. I also was concerned that if I shared my happiness in the public realm that I would somehow jinx it. Somehow, I managed to find the dark lining to my silver cloud.
Once I deciphered the underlying feelings and thoughts that rendered me silent, I decided to change my thought process. While I may be slow to share the source of my happiness, that does not mean that I have to undermine it. This is a genuine joy that inspires me and heals me, and I am worthy and deserving of it. I have nothing to prove to anyone else, myself included. I just have more stories to tell. This one and others, because I’m happy.
That’s another story . . .
Categories: That's Another Story