Writer’s Block

Photo Credit: JosephGilbert.org via Compfight cc

Photo Credit: JosephGilbert.org via Compfight cc

The words won’t come. I try to coax them out into the open. Sweet sing-songy platitudes call them forward, but they remain just beyond my sight. I know they are there somewhere, but the miasma has engulfed them. Frustrated I call louder, more urgent, insistent. Still the words won’t come.

I give up the pretense of being calm or rational and slam my fist as I demand they answer me. I know they are out there and now I can feel them laughing and mocking my building rage. I feel them, but I cannot hear them, they won’t even give me that much.

So many times they have lead me by the hand, feeding me reassurances that I possessed a measure of talent. They enticed me with visions of worlds yet explored and tales unconquered. How could I have not been made to think this was what I was called to do? My whole life believing, with a sense of entitlement, that these words belonged to me and me alone. Knowing that one day I would hold them close and they would tell me all of their secrets. I would wield them like a well sharpened sword and cleave a path to my destiny. Only now, they refuse and I can see my path crumbling like over-baked clay. The more I struggle to collect them the less substance they hold. Soon they will blow away and I’ll be left alone.

I thrust my hands into the darkness and flail helplessly trying to find some small purchase to take hold of. I almost think I’ve got something, but I’m overeager and loose my grip before I can even begin to reel it out into the light. I feel the anger rise up in my throat like bile and I spit it out into the air around me letting it fill the room like a heavy fog. With no vent to escape the dense clouds instead double back on me causing my eyes to tear up as my self inflicted hatred wounds every exposed part of me.

It is in these times I know the terrible truth of myself. My fraudulent nature, my unfulfilled desire to be more than I am. I know and I mourn the things I can never allow myself to want because in these moments I know I do not deserve them.

The cursor blinks on the empty screen, still waiting for me to begin. The words won’t come.

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Beginning again, and again

in-the-beginning-logo

It’s that time of the year once again, when we finally stop a minute to take stock of our lives and realize we want to do so much more than we have been. A lot of people seem to scoff at New Year’s resolutions, claiming they are doomed to fail because there is nothing magic about a new year that will make salad and gym visits any more appealing then they were last year. I get that, but at the same time, it’s just nice to feel like you can push all the disappointments and setbacks from the previous year aside and tell yourself, okay, this time I’m gonna do this right.

So maybe that’s what I’m doing here. I had a small handful of goals or ideas which I wanted to pursue this year. I tried to keep them attainable, without being so vague as to make them meaningless. Firstly, I wanted to write more. I’m always saying I need to stop “being a writer” and just actually write something. Tada! Here I am. To help facilitate this a bit more I’ve signed up for a Blogging 101 Course over at The Daily Post. My first assignment? This post here, introducing myself, or rather reintroducing the purpose behind this blog. As for my great and glorious purpose, well let’s come back to that in a minute.

In addition to setting myself up with two nights per week devoted entirely to writerly pursuits, I’ve also decided to spend the following two nights working on my mad crafting skills. Yeah that’s right, I used to have a handmade toy business, but it was a tough uphill battle with all the new regulations coming in after all the lead scares. Plus, most of my favorite things to make were custom pieces for grownup collectors. I’ve been kicking around the idea of slowly building up a new business, but this time with a clear focus on nerdy, geeky, fandom loving custom works. Everything I love to make, from plushies to clay figurines. I missed crafting, this feels like seeing an old friend again. Like, an actual friend you liked, not the ones you put up with because your parents made you.

Aside from these two main goals I am of course doing the ‘yay fitness’ kick again. I’ve opted away from the boring “try to lose weight” plan and instead I’m focusing on actually doing cool fit person things. Last year I managed to run three 5k’s. This year I’m already planning my first 10k and want to add at least one more race than last year. If you’ve read around my blog in the past you know I am not a fit person by any means. When I say I ran a 5K I really mean that I managed to plod along without dying while making vaguely running like motions with my legs and arms, occasionally at the appropriate intervals. I’m not fast. I will never be fast, but I will finish and I will sign up for another race. I gotta represent my pudgy brethren.

Since I can only feign so much optimism about doing something I’m terrible at and don’t enjoy much I’m also taking up archery so I can be a badass. Just got my recurve bow in today, as such I am a fresh beginner in unmarked territory. Should be interesting to see if I shoot my eye out.

There you have it, all the things I’m starting to make myself the best version of me I can be. That’s pretty much what I think this blog is about this year. If you have any interest I’d love to have you along for the ride.

new-years-resolution-list

I get why people turn up their noses at the idea of trying to start fresh each year. You don’t really get a blank slate, all your baggage and stress is still there on January 1st, ready to ride into the year with you.  I get their point, but I still think they are wrong.

It’s not about having to start over every year, it’s about letting yourself have a new beginning. Remember that great and glorious purpose I mentioned earlier? The point behind this blog? Just making a little place where I can go to remind myself that falling short or failing isn’t the end, as long  as I begin again.

(Too hokey?  No worries, I have all year to work on it.)

Sneaking away from my comfort zone

pillow fort

I’ll be in my pillow fort if you need me.

I don’t take kindly to change. Even positive changes can put me on edge because I’m a firm believer that it’s better to stick with the enemy you know than to go looking for new trouble. This line of thinking is more than a little problematic the older I get because more and more I’m catching myself standing in the way of my own success. There are loads of blogs and scientific articles out there that tout the benefits of stepping out of your personal comfort zone. Basically, there aren’t many downsides as it is seen as the key to achieving greatness. While we all inevitably fall into the low-stress, reduced anxiety lifestyle our comfort zones provide, nobody does amazing things without pushing some boundaries.

The husband and I were talking this morning about how things continue to change throughout your life. There is never a point where you’ve finally got it all sorted out and can just sit back and ride out the rest in peace with no regrets. Or maybe you can, but so far as either of us could tell we’re not the types to give up wondering “what if” about things. It’s not that we aren’t happy with all the great things we do have, it’s just that we still wonder if we could continue to improve our lot in life. Humankind wouldn’t have made many advancements through the years if we’d all just given up and decided to be content with the way things already were.

Lately I’ve been feeling more than a bit stuck with a bad case of complacency. Things aren’t really bad for me, but they aren’t how I’d like them to be and it’s been a good while since I felt like I was making any progress. I’ve found myself trapped in my comfort zone and, like a toppled pillow fort, what was meant to be calming and safe is slowly beginning to suffocate me.  It has taken some pushing and prodding a maybe even a few tears, but I think I’m ready to start testing the waters out there in the big bad world.

Hello, opportunities?

Hello, opportunities?

Some people, braver or more stupid than myself, might launch into this challenge headfirst with huge life altering events. That’s all fine and good, god speed to them. Being the type of person who gets angry and disoriented by surprises I prefer to slowly feel my way into new experiences. I’ve been putting out some feelers lately, just seeing what opportunities might exist for someone like me that weren’t open before. I’m still planning to keep the focus on furthering my writing, but by allowing myself to consider new possibilities I may have found a way to make things easier on myself by eliminating some of the problems inherent with comfort.

It’s not a perfect plan, and there is every chance that it could blow up in my face before things even get off the ground, but at this point that is a risk I’m willing to take. I’ve realized the only thing that scares me more than change is being stuck with no chance of change.