Filling a page
After such a long pause in writing this blog, the blank page this morning is a challenge. For months I have intended to restart, or at the very least plan out themes to write on. For months I have failed. The blog was a way to practise writing, to journal my thankfully very full life. To spend a bit of time quietly thinking and writing about those thoughts.
Sitting at a laptop and writing was an antidote to travelling, moving, seeing people, generally being out and about and speaking and listening. This was my time to get thoughts in order and to exercise discipline on word count and exclamation marks, knowing that I overuse both.
Then life became full of reflection but lacked stimulation. I thought nothing new, and so had nothing new to say. I was exhausted and hollowed out by video conferencing, which enables some conversation, but not enough communication to inspire my creativity. I was fed up of news and analysis and talking about my very small life. Mostly I was avoiding judgement, trying not to judge other people for their choices and feeling worried that people were judging me for goodness knows what.
My inability to write a blog became evidence of my lack of ability to think properly. It emphasised how small life was. And I was scared of writing something and being judged.
Slowly but surely I am emerging from that worry and that feeling of having nothing much to say. At last the page has words on it. Now to delete a good proportion of them.