When we first bought our house, a three story 1890s rowhome (skinny and tall, flanked by identical sisters on either side), I would come up to the third floor, a sprawling attic space with vaulted ceilings on all sides and a sky-blue painted patchwork floor, and sit on the floor with my face in the sun.
You are more sage and seasoned than you think, Lore. Take the time to make your collages. This is important, too, and also worth my of that lovely office space you get to call yours.
“I feel at the end of something and on the cusp of something but in between the two for a very, very, very long time.” These words express my exact feelings about myself too.
Your space is dreamy. Your words here provide a gestating home for the rest of us. To borrow from a favorite children's book, yours is the best nest. Thank you for allowing us entrance.
Such a beautiful glimpse into your space, physical and mental, at the moment.
I have a voice that questions why I dare to think the world needs my words. It is what keeps me from sharing creative writing. But, despite the endless posts about writing for your audience's needs, I write for me---whether to absorb those great words I read or discern why others didn't land, or just to process my time in this place, or tell the stories begging to be told.
And so often, when you write what you need to say, there are people like me who drink that up, who so needed to hear someone put those thoughts and feelings into words. We're a patient group, so take your time.
This bit, and the other about reading awful things--> When I read something wonderful and want to engage it with words, I ask myself, “Why? Why does the world need my words in addition to these already wonderful words? Why not just leave it to speak for itself?”
Yes. This is why I have stopped writing (and commenting). I don't know when I will start again.
Thanks for writing this one. It is so intensely relatable. The first time I had this experience, I was convinced I'd never write again. It passed. It always does. But every time that same feeling returns, I still believe it all over again. Take the rest your spirit (the Spirit?) is demanding. I think these fallow seasons of losing our nerve, of even losing our way, end up being soil of something good.
Lore, my comment will just echo the things all the others have said. My thought is that you've been through a lot of rough, serious circumstances these last few years and all that effect is cumulative! A Sabbath rest for this time, doing what you're doing may be a counterweight to all of that. Take courage dear heart. Let that nerve you think you've lost have a rest. We'll all be here with you. Hugs, Jo
Also PS it takes a fair amount of nerve to go against our hustle culture and revel in unhurried time and space. Putting honesty and beauty into the world takes guts. May you be blessed in this time of your nerve looking different than you expected.
For what it's worth, I soak up all the words you write. You have created a virtual place where I feel invited to just be and find my worth in that. And I am grateful.
Thank you for putting to words something I'm experiencing too. Yes! Spaces matter. I've also created a space I love and yet cannot seem to write in it. I wrote most of my books in the years of crowded coffee shops and next to sleeping toddlers. Why does this happen? I appreciate knowing that I am not alone.
I also feel the pull to address things and not knowing how or what to say. But I did a calendula tea tasting at one of our elementary schools today using flowers we grow in our hydroponic farms and I felt like I was pouring some kind of communion. And I laughed at myself because it was silly and I also took to heart the symbolism that this too has meaning.
Thanks for sharing so honestly, Lore. I deeply appreciate the writer you are, even in this season, where you feel you've lost your nerve. I found myself feeling similarly to much of what you shared, feeling a bit flatlined when I sit down to write lots of days...the state of the world, my own heart in this season, or perhaps just the ebb and flow of the creative life. It's hard to know, but I appreciate you naming it, sharing it and making me feel a little less alone.
You are more sage and seasoned than you think, Lore. Take the time to make your collages. This is important, too, and also worth my of that lovely office space you get to call yours.
Begin the song exactly where you are,
Remain within the world of which you’re made.
Call nothing common in the earth or air,
Accept it all and let it be for good.
Start with the very breath you breathe in now,
This moment’s pulse, this rhythm in your blood
And listen to it, ringing soft and low.
Stay with the music, words will come in time.
Slow down your breathing. Keep it deep and slow.
Become an open singing-bowl, whose chime
Is richness rising out of emptiness,
And timelessness resounding into time.
And when the heart is full of quietness
Begin the song exactly where you are.
The Singing Bowl
Malcolm Guite
“I feel at the end of something and on the cusp of something but in between the two for a very, very, very long time.” These words express my exact feelings about myself too.
Your space is dreamy. Your words here provide a gestating home for the rest of us. To borrow from a favorite children's book, yours is the best nest. Thank you for allowing us entrance.
You have hit a note here and God’s got something good for you—it’s just simmering on the back burner. I’m antsy too. This post was just what I needed.
Such a beautiful glimpse into your space, physical and mental, at the moment.
I have a voice that questions why I dare to think the world needs my words. It is what keeps me from sharing creative writing. But, despite the endless posts about writing for your audience's needs, I write for me---whether to absorb those great words I read or discern why others didn't land, or just to process my time in this place, or tell the stories begging to be told.
And so often, when you write what you need to say, there are people like me who drink that up, who so needed to hear someone put those thoughts and feelings into words. We're a patient group, so take your time.
This bit, and the other about reading awful things--> When I read something wonderful and want to engage it with words, I ask myself, “Why? Why does the world need my words in addition to these already wonderful words? Why not just leave it to speak for itself?”
Yes. This is why I have stopped writing (and commenting). I don't know when I will start again.
Thanks for writing this one. It is so intensely relatable. The first time I had this experience, I was convinced I'd never write again. It passed. It always does. But every time that same feeling returns, I still believe it all over again. Take the rest your spirit (the Spirit?) is demanding. I think these fallow seasons of losing our nerve, of even losing our way, end up being soil of something good.
Thanks friend. I mean it.
Lore, my comment will just echo the things all the others have said. My thought is that you've been through a lot of rough, serious circumstances these last few years and all that effect is cumulative! A Sabbath rest for this time, doing what you're doing may be a counterweight to all of that. Take courage dear heart. Let that nerve you think you've lost have a rest. We'll all be here with you. Hugs, Jo
Thank you! It hadn't occurred to me until people commented this, but I am considering it!
Also PS it takes a fair amount of nerve to go against our hustle culture and revel in unhurried time and space. Putting honesty and beauty into the world takes guts. May you be blessed in this time of your nerve looking different than you expected.
Ooooof. I receive that!
For what it's worth, I soak up all the words you write. You have created a virtual place where I feel invited to just be and find my worth in that. And I am grateful.
Thank you. I am glad and grateful to hear it.
I lost my nerve too, so I’ve been writing “safe” things for a while… But I think my nerve is coming back. Hang in there! Thankful for you!
So many of us have, it appears. I wonder why?
Thank you for putting to words something I'm experiencing too. Yes! Spaces matter. I've also created a space I love and yet cannot seem to write in it. I wrote most of my books in the years of crowded coffee shops and next to sleeping toddlers. Why does this happen? I appreciate knowing that I am not alone.
You are not alone =)
I also feel the pull to address things and not knowing how or what to say. But I did a calendula tea tasting at one of our elementary schools today using flowers we grow in our hydroponic farms and I felt like I was pouring some kind of communion. And I laughed at myself because it was silly and I also took to heart the symbolism that this too has meaning.
No, it's not silly! I love it!
PS. Fellow conflicted collage girl over here too.
RIGHT?!
Thanks for sharing so honestly, Lore. I deeply appreciate the writer you are, even in this season, where you feel you've lost your nerve. I found myself feeling similarly to much of what you shared, feeling a bit flatlined when I sit down to write lots of days...the state of the world, my own heart in this season, or perhaps just the ebb and flow of the creative life. It's hard to know, but I appreciate you naming it, sharing it and making me feel a little less alone.
It is hard to know. In it with you.