Being With, Not Struggling With, Writer’s Block

Wow, writer’s block… it’s tough.

I’m really surprised at my obvious lack of inspiration to write on this blog.

I think I have stage fright.  Blog fright.

My mind is an amusing thing. As a creative, intuitive person I see things in a way that maybe not everyone would see, and I find myself thinking through the day, “Wow, this would make a great blog post.”  That’s why I created this thing in the first place.

So this morning I make myself a cuppa something, fire up the laptop, pull my legs up around me in my favorite chair and settle in for some great blog writing.  And then…

Panic hits. My brain goes on vacay. My stomach twists itself into seventeen kinds of knots. I stare at the screen blankly and wonder what could have ever possessed me to start this blog anyway?

Mindfulness: being present with the writer’s block

If I stop a minute and really think about it, I can feel a sort of fear creeping up through my belly and aiming for all that allows me to communicate.  It’s telling me I’m no good, no one will want to read this crap, I can’t write worth two shits, I have nothing of value to say.

Huh.

So instead of reading a witty or intelligent or inspiring or thought-provoking post today, you’re getting nothing but this banal, self-absorbed crap.

Sorry about that.

Hey, I’m about to re-read Time Enough For Love by Robert Heinlein and Atlas Shrugged by Ayn Rand.  Maybe that will kick my ass into writing something of value again.

You never know.