I started writing this last night, in my head as I fell asleep.
It was better last night.
That’s the story of me lately, not as good as I was before. Falling asleep before completing something. Life is busy, as I am sure you know. It’s a matter of choices. Small choices everyday on what to do and where to focus limited energy.
There is so much I want to do, so much I want to say, but the stories are no t my own. I can only share with you my story and my truth. Sometimes that means I have to stay silent because our stories are intertwined, it’s my truth and I play a part but it’s not my story.
So I zip my lip I stare at the screen and I choose sleep, or laundry or family. It’s the worst kind of writers block where you have the words but you can’t quite say them out loud.
I go through the motions of this busy everyday. I bend and sway like a tree in the wind knowing that I have deep roots so I will return upright, eventually. For now I lean into the wind and I feel it whip my face and push me over and marvel at the roots that keep me from toppling.