And the world is not cooperating.
I’m still having stress pain although the pains are less severe than they have been. Yesterday, I gave up and just wrote. What I wrote is not something I want people to see just yet. Maybe I’ll never want people to see it. It was, and is, for me.When my writing class began this semester, my teacher told us that the point of writing is not to get published but to get words on paper. He said that when we realized that it will be an amazing, freeing experience. I thought he was wrong. What would be the point of writing if no one sees it? Now, I understand what he was saying. He’s right. I needed to get something outside of me and onto paper.
I’m in a weird creative lull. I got some really good ideas for the novel I’m writing while in class this morning. I see how I can add dialog – and I’ve got a good idea what my characters are going to say – and make my characters more alive. I don’t feel like writing. I spent some time this morning sketching ideas – some of them quite good – for the doll I want to make. I don’t feel like making the doll. I’ve got more placemats to quilt. I don’t feel like cutting batting and quilting placemats. I’ve started reading a mystery set in Hawaii. Murder mystery, Hawaii… that alone makes it a book I want to read. Except I don’t feel like reading. I spent time yesterday working on functional ceramic pieces. I need to do a little more work on them. I don’t feel like playing in the mud.
One of the ideas I’m exploring in my novel is how no matter what kind of misery is happening in our lives, we can’t call a time out. Processing one emotional tsunami while fighting off the next emotional tsunami is impossible. I know this. My body has called a time out. My brain has called a time out. I’m looking at something that was right in front of me, something that I saw but refused to acknowledge. Now, I need to acknowledge it. Now, I need to see the evil. Now, I need to stop pretending that someone just had a stupid sense of humor or just didn’t understand mental illness. Now, I need to stop minimizing other people’s actions. Now, I need to take whatever length of time it takes to let myself see, hurt and heal what feels like emotional flu. This is taking way more time than I want it to take. Now that I’ve looked, I want to stop looking and go do something else.
Maybe I’ll feel better if I clean the kitchen and water the air plants. Those are both mindless activities. Perhaps I can process, clean and water simultaneously.