I started writing a post about my right now (one like this). But the words were hard to come by. And I found myself getting annoyed by the mess on my desk. One might say well, why don’t you take five minutes to clean off your desk, give yourself a little room to write and breathe and think? And that’s good advice. But, I didn’t take it.
And so I write to you this morning, reaching over a clipboard and around some knitting. My desk seems to adequately reflect the state of my mind. Cluttered, busy, full. And I’m getting moments of clarity, I am. Yesterday, I was writing in my journal and the words practically dripped off my pen. And just when the writing seemed to be losing itself (me), it spiraled back in and brought me to a point of center. And it felt good, so good.
But this morning, I feel lost again.
I find myself in this odd place of knowing what I want and not knowing what I want. Certain things in my life are very clear (family). Other things are clear to a certain point (writing, photography). It’s that certain point around which I feel stuck. What am I doing? Where am I going?
And I don’t mean to be vague with all of this (I apologize for being just that). I just don’t know how to share it. Homeschooling my kids is my priority. Working creatively is also a priority. It’s fitting one in with the other that gets me in this sticky place. I feel like I never have quite enough mental (or emotional) space to really process things, to really think things through. I find myself in circular thought patterns. And while circles and cycles are good (I love circles and cycles), sometimes they can make one a little dizzy. Sometimes they can leave one wishing for a point of exit.
And so this is what happens on a morning when I’m feeling a little lost. Dizzy writing. Going round and round without really getting anywhere. I’ve tried to get something down. I’ve really tried. And there’s something in the trying, yes? I believe so much in the trying, in the showing up. At first glance, the work is not enough. And yet it’s exactly enough. For now.
I’ll keep trying. With my pen, through my lens, on the snowy hill as I sled with my kids. I’ll keep trying and I’ll keep showing up. Because I don’t know what else to do.
Sending a little love your way, m