Months have gone by where I have been asking myself why do I have a writer's block? Not that I am a writer per se, but someone who has a little blog that floats aimlessly. Not that floating is bad, or aimlessly isn't a direction. In these last several months I have been toying with myself, possibly not really listening, avoiding, maybe even standing still. Sure I have plenty going on, and happy is in the equation, cause I am, nevertheless, a writer's block, a wall with cracks is before me.
Time is needed to write, writing involves reflection, reflection brings up pieces of the heart, mind, and soul, and dirt, chaos and a chunk of "what is this"? Time helps sort it out, floating aimlessly is an art of letting go and eventually letting it be.
Maybe it is not a writer's block but more of a stirring pot… where things come up and go back down. Maybe, I am asking myself,
"Where do I want to go, be, do… instead of floating contently. "
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