I'm feeling antsy about writing. I was in a groove for about a month or so, and now I feel... empty. I lack words. I sit down with my notebook and I scratch out symbols that become words, but they don't go anywhere, they don't mean anything. I feel empty, and it's frustrating.
My life, however, feels very full. Since I've begun this blog, I've baked a pie from scratch, tried a kickboxing class (actually two!), jogged in my neighborhood, started training for a 5K. I think I'm going to try knitting next. And I forsee a river kayak trip in my future! The world has opened up for me - and why not? I'm healthy, thank God. I have a supportive spouse and supportive friends. The glass is definitely half full.
But. With me, there's always a but. I am a creature of moods. Last night I complained to the hubby that I wasn't writing anything and was starting to feel panicked. He said to me, "You've got to know that's it's still in there." I am trying to remember and feel his words. The spark is still in me. Sometimes it might hide. I have to just keep on writing. Just do it, don't think, just write. Writing has opened up my life! I can't quit now.