I’ve sat in front of this computer no less than a dozen times in the last 6 months trying to crank out blog posts. Unlike other periods of writer’s block, I have not been short of ideas, nor inspiration. In fact I hear my inner muse daily – begging me to write. The problem is that I have always written this blog from a place of authenticity and chosen topics that are closest to my heart in that moment. And what has been closest to my heart in the last 6 months have been deeply personal. What needs to be spoken feels too vulnerable to utter. I have been struggling with holding the tension between authenticity and over-exposure – between gushing sentimentality and withholding.
As my tentative fingers tap dance on my keyboard I recognize that this polarity is not unfamiliar to me. I come home yet again to this morbidly comfortable skirmish between flow and temperance – cozy as steel wool slippers. These are the horizontal points of a cross on which I am strung, and on which my blog is stalled – and I feel myself in the paralyzed space between.
Amidst this paralysis, however, I continue to feel the constant ache to share and express to an audience beyond the circle of voices in my own head. When I write for others there is a different quality to my writing, it is more relational and creative. I have to dig deep for the creativity that allows me to transmit inner realities into external ones – ones that build a bridge between my heart and others. This is, perhaps, one of art’s greatest gifts and the reason writers, artists and musicians so willingly suffer this paralysis in hopes that one small nugget of connection may surface.
As I name the reality of this tension within me I settle into a surprising feeling of self-compassion. This is not the only tension I’ve held over the last 7 months since the breakup of my marriage. I have held the tension of loss and rebirth, of guilt and freedom, of old and new love, of shame and self-expansion. It has been a profound period of my life, and compassion for all I’ve experienced exhales in me. I feel a gentle resolution of some of these tensions, and life inhales a deep breath of renewal in my lungs. Exhale… Inhale… Exhale….. Inhale….. has been my mantra – and so it will continue to be as I move forward, inspired by struggle, by creativity and by love to create a life that at the end of my days I can genuinely call my own.