That was profound. Maybe you should write this down:
Rule #1 of blogging: Blog.
I haven't been writing lately because of my other rules: be positive, don't complain, work through your feelings first before telling others. Truth is things have been downright exhausting, hard, and sad lately.
To keep all of my rules, I'm not going to go into it as yet. Just know that 2.5 weeks ago I intended to write a plucky piece about other things you can make when life gives you lemons. And I wanted to make this phrase viral:
When life gives you lemons, make lemon curd.
Curd is such a gross word; it fits.
Here were the pictures for the positive post that I didn't write. This picture symbolized the things going wrong:
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| make lemon curd |
This one represented controlling the "lemons" and making them into something useful and pretty:
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| bunt those lemons! |
Shortly after taking this I almost keeled over because I was taking them on my back porch and overheated. I fled to Target to use WiFi, drink water, and get Advil. (I couldn't go inside my apartment because...it was filled with an asphalt smell. So much lemon curd to be made!)
At any rate, things have been difficult, and one thing I know and learned was after a lot of stress a person's higher level thinking skills (including creativity) plummets. It's simple brain chemistry. My brain was/is trying to help me survive.
I can fight. I can take flight, but unfortunately, I couldn't write. The thoughts were too visceral too raw, more meaningless onomatopoeias than words. It felt so unlike me that I wondered if I had brain damage. I asked friends if I seemed somehow altered, dumber, to test me, to be honest. But really it was my brain on cortisol over far too many days.
I think I see a glimmer after today of finding words again, which is a relief because I need to write to earn my keep.
For me, health and writing are linked, and they come only with quiet, peace, stillness and being alone. Are you that way?
I sat in silence for hours and hours driving. Hours and hours at home all alone. Hours in silent exercise in nature and another hour getting a massage. And I can hear myself writing now in my head.
So today I learned:
Until I am composed, I can't compose.
