Since I wrote about resistance I had several days of productivity and wrote a bit on THE PET SITTER every day. But that went on for perhaps 4 or 5 days. Then I stopped. I have had to rethink the resistance argument. I think I may be pregnant.
Creatively speaking, I have felt a little empty for a long while. I sometimes attribute it to laziness or a lack of the psychic energy needed to write. But I think I really feel empty. My brain really feels like this huge, barren cavern, with not even air in it. Just a big nothingness. But what does that really mean for me?
There was a time – a long ago crazy time – when I was inspired all the time and wrote feverishly. But real inspiration is very rare nowadays, or perhaps I am just not seeing it.
I think the truth underneath this empty feeling is that I am in gestation. That does not take the responsibility for writing off me, but it explains this inability to do so. The ideas are percolating inside me and, perhaps, are just not ready to be born. Maybe that’s me making excuses. But I do not believe that this feeling of being empty means that I am empty. I think I am stuck in pregnancy. I think I am really full. My brain is working overtime, though it may feel quite the opposite.
So what am I supposed to do in the meanwhile? How am I supposed to feel? If I accept the verity of the quote above, I MUST accept that I am never empty. That there is only unmanifested full-ness. Fear is the block. Fear about feeling that full-ness. I can only try to be aware all the time of how I feel and welcome those feelings. Truth is: I am terrified. Of baring my soul, exposing my heart. And that’s normal.
Bottom line? What am I actually saying? I feel empty but I’m really not. I am pregnant and scared. And I am in avoidance of feeling my feelings. Even surrounded by all the beauty of my new home, creatively I am stuck. Maybe I really am just not ready. Maybe I don’t want to write THE PET SITTER, though I feel pulled to do it. Maybe it is simply resistance. I only know that I am empty and not aware of the unmanifested full-ness. And I don’t know what I must do to see it. Relax. Stop punishing myself for a lack of productivity. Stop worrying about being 67 and not having time to be patient.
Ease up, Alice.