I was a writer. I want to be able to say "I am a writer." But in this place where I am now, the channeling of the ideas, the creating something out of nothing is not there. I am in a desert: literally and figuratively. And I miss it so much. In a time and a place where I should be excreting pictures with words and sweating out so very much, I find I am dry. I think I need to unpack that.
I am enjoying some good reading and maybe through that I will find the inspiration to dance over the keys and be back in that place and space where I will be a writer again. I did find this wonderful talk on TED by Elizabeth Gilbert. I think I've listened to it about seven times now. It is saying something to me.
The mounting frustration of trying to get work done in this place is zapping. Dealing with lack of resources and, probably more so, trying to understand and work through the decision process in the agencies we rely on to move things forward: the nuances of the Arabic business culture, is choking my soul. At the end of the day, at the end of the work week, I feel like I have no skills to bring to the table. If I can't do the things that are understandable and solid, how can I do the things that are ellusive and undefined? It's the work that has become ellusive and undefined. I hate that. Robs a girl of her confidence. Turns up the volume on that inner voice that says "you are too old for this! Too old for anything of value." It chokes the confidence and in so, smothers the deeper stuff where creativity can thrive.
So I will keep at the reading and at least trying to enjoy and receive from the creative success of others, looking for water in this desert, until I can say again that I am a writer.
I am enjoying some good reading and maybe through that I will find the inspiration to dance over the keys and be back in that place and space where I will be a writer again. I did find this wonderful talk on TED by Elizabeth Gilbert. I think I've listened to it about seven times now. It is saying something to me.
The mounting frustration of trying to get work done in this place is zapping. Dealing with lack of resources and, probably more so, trying to understand and work through the decision process in the agencies we rely on to move things forward: the nuances of the Arabic business culture, is choking my soul. At the end of the day, at the end of the work week, I feel like I have no skills to bring to the table. If I can't do the things that are understandable and solid, how can I do the things that are ellusive and undefined? It's the work that has become ellusive and undefined. I hate that. Robs a girl of her confidence. Turns up the volume on that inner voice that says "you are too old for this! Too old for anything of value." It chokes the confidence and in so, smothers the deeper stuff where creativity can thrive.
So I will keep at the reading and at least trying to enjoy and receive from the creative success of others, looking for water in this desert, until I can say again that I am a writer.
3 comments:
Awww... we all hit dry spells every now and then, especially in creative pursuits. Sometimes our brains just need an oasis to revive and restore. Sounds like the work frustration isn't much help. I'm still cheering you on and praying for you daily. Take good care...
I really believe we all need some time off. Often we come back completely rejuvinated and with fresh, new ideas.
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