… at least temporarily. At least I hope it’s temporary. I’m referring, of course, to the fact that I’m sitting here, completely uninspired. Not a thought in my head. I knew it would come to this when the whole week passed without an idea coming to me. Not even a mediocre idea. Not that I’d want a mediocre idea. Not that I’d use a mediocre idea. But still.
It seemed odd, to be honest, because I’ve been on such a roll lately. I’ve been struck with new ideas, for new blog posts while I’m writing posts, for God sake. I’ve had to stop what I was doing, stop writing, just so I could jot down the gist of the idea, so I’d remember enough of it to get back to it, later. I’ve had blog posts stock piled, all written, saved and ready to be published in coming weeks.
And now, suddenly, nothing. N-O-T-H-I-N-G . Nada. My mind’s a complete blank.
Well, not totally blank, just as far as ideas go. With everything going on in the world you’d think I’d have
Yes, I am happy. Very happy. Jumping for joy happy. Nope, I did not win a lottery. This is better, actually. Yeah, better than winning a lottery. I may actually have talked about this before. Doesn’t matter. I’m gonna talk about it again. It’s different this time anyhow.
For at least the last twenty years I’ve wanted to write a book. Nothing to do with ego, I have just always thought there was one in me. God knows I tried. I gave myself headaches trying to come up with topics. I’d write a few sentences, maybe a paragraph or two, only to end up ripping the sheet of paper off the pad, crumpling it up in a ball and tossing it. I even took a book writing course, which I really enjoyed. Not that
Who do you see when you look in the mirror? No, I’m not trying to be a smart ass; and it’s not a trick question. I’m being serious. Because it doesn’t necessarily mean it’s your own true self you’re staring at. In my experience, at one time or another, we’ve all created a persona we’ve sent out there into the world.
Sometimes it’s who, or what, others — like our parents or spouses or teachers — want us to be. How many young men and women have become doctors or lawyers or firefighters or teachers or have gotten married or had children in an effort to please their folks — only to end up miserable because they wanted to do something else with their lives?
Sometimes it’s us. We wish we were like a character we enjoyed in a book or a film. Or more like a friend or colleague. Someone we think is more interesting or more intelligent or more successful or more admired or more charming or more memorable. Someone who seems to have a more exciting, more fulfilling life. Someone who’s braver than we are. More daring. More adventurous. Naughtier. Funnier. More
In last week’s post I compared walking the Camino Trail to our life’s journey.
Both require endurance. Both often necessitate we divest ourselves of the unnecessarily heavy loads we carry. For those walking the Camino it usually means emptying their knapsacks and even leaving sleeping bags behind. In life it can mean getting rid of possessions, walking away from relationships, moving to smaller homes or relocating to different cities. Both also provide us with the opportunity to unload the emotional baggage that tends to bog us down.
I’ve spent the week thinking, on and off, about the changes I’ve made in my life over the years. What I’ve