How does this happen? It's easy, really. It's busy-ness. I am even busy with things I actually want to be doing and that actually do feed my dreams and move me toward reaching them. That sort of busy-ness is especially difficult to tame, because it is needed. But it can still be a problem because it keeps me from going deep.
My writing is suffering from my busy-ness because I am only paying it lip service. I make some story notes. I squeeze in a quick 10-15 minute freewrite now and then. I do not make time for a regular, thoughtful, meaningful writing practice. And so when I sit down and want to write something good, something important and true with real depth, great description, genuine feeling, I can't do it. My words are creaky and cold. They haven't been used in too long, not really used. They are like muscles, and they need to be retrained. But I get frustrated with my lack of flow, and I go back to being busy and not writing regularly.
My words are like this crow, alone in the middle of a barren, rocky land. They need nourishing and company.
Don't get me wrong. I am really pleased with what I'm doing so far with my creativity coach training and the business and my weekly art experiments. Those are definitely taking me toward a place I want to be. But I have to overcome the fear and inertia and bring regular writing into the mix. My first love and heart's desire is writing, and I must find a way to stop ignoring it, avoiding it, neglecting it.
The Bird by Bird read-along starts next week. I hope there are some insights and some practical help coming my way soon.