There are days when I feel blocked. As though my creative
outlet were plugged with the debris of disenchantment and feelings build up and
choke me. I haven’t written in a while – something seems to be missing or
perhaps covered over with other worries. So today I decided to write whatever
crosses my mind first and lighten the backlog of unspoken emotions. The music
plays softly in the background and I sit at my laptop next to my window in the
little nook where I always write. I feel the sensual weight of my dangling
earrings, the slight tickle of an errant lock of hair brushing against my
ever-sensitive ear, the persistent low-grade ache in my lower back, the
heaviness under my eyes from a night of less-than-perfect sleep, the little
knots of tension that signal an oncoming headache because of the million thoughts
that race in my head trying to find their way to orderliness.
I wonder all of a sudden about how easy it is to find
comfort in someone and forget how to be strong for oneself. To allow yourself
to lean on another when some days seem difficult and then one fine day be
besieged by a fear of losing that very comfort when one needs it most. For lose
it I will – I know for a certain that my way ahead in life is different from
most people around me. I have no respite from my worries over my child. Some days
I am able to ignore it to a certain extent but other days it looms like a
terrifying cliff that I see no way of scaling. I run away for a while by
refusing to think but given my nature, that is never a solution – deluding myself
is always temporary. I could be doing anything – watching a movie, laughing at
a joke, reading a book, poring through documents, making dinner or listening to
a song and out of the blue the pain of worry carried over a decade hits me so
hard that I close my eyes and for an instant there is only darkness. Pulling
myself out takes visible effort but I do it easily enough – I have had much
practice.
Writing always makes me feel more alive. I see the
interwoven strands of my thoughts and emotions and follow one silvery thread to
its finish or I play with a dozen different strands and see the beauty in the
interleaving. I woke up with the feeling that I needed more clarity and focus
to complete a series of tasks I had assigned myself. The stress from the night before
had not dissipated at all rather surprisingly. But as the morning passes, I
feel better – less overwhelmed and more accepting of the thought that I will
get everything done in my own time and that is as it should be.
The sunlight streams in through the window and I let its
warmth bathe my face. It is a truly beautiful day outside. I feel more
energized at the sight of a warm sunny day – and now, let me get back to
work.....
