I’ve been tired. So tired.
I’m also trying to be me. To help others with stuff when they ask, to teach Kids Church on a Sunday, catch up with friends, and even attend the odd gala or two. It’s been crazy trying to do everything, and I find myself exhausted and not wanting to do anything!!
Being a blogger, who reads a lot of blogs, I often come across the ‘I have no idea what to write about post.’ I’ve even written that myself, from time to time. 🙂 One thing I’m starting to notice though, is that often these times of wordlessness come when life is just busy and complicated. We’re so busy trying to keep ourselves afloat, that we have no time for the things that make us come alive.
Of course then because we have no time, the business gets harder, the struggle goes on longer, and we soon find ourselves staring at a blank computer screen wondering what on earth we are supposed to write about, since we have nothing to say. Although the truth is, that we are so full of everything else, the creativity just can’t get out.
It’s a depressing cycle.
Another thing I’ve noticed, over my two years blogging, is that lots of people start off here, but then move on to other things. They love to write, but they discover new hobbies and passions. I needn’t look past my gorgeous friends Daisy, Gemma and Erin, who don’t write anywhere near as much as they used to. Daisy has fallen in love with wool and crochet. Gemma finds vintage furniture and makes it pretty again. And Erin has the most squish-able baby that makes her life complete. They do still blog and write; they still have voice that they share. But it’s not as constant as it was; new things have popped up. New doors are opened, and that’s great.
Me, I’m a die hard blogger. My passion is writing, and the more I do it, the more I want to do it. The more my audience grows, the more I want to grow it further. The more engagement I get, the greater engagement I desire. For me it’s a drug, pure and simple. I’m miserable without it.
But there are other things I love too.
I like to sew on occassion.
Tinker on a web page.
Make a video or two.
I enjoy all those things. They make me happy and content, but not like writing. Nothing gets me like writing.
And yet, just lately, well, I’ve been so tired. Too tired to want to write, or to read or to engage. Just pass me my ipad and my free games and leave me be.
But then something funny happens.
Call it what you like. The universe, karma, I’m quite partial to the term God myself, but it’s like you’re reminded of your love. Something pops up. A conversation with a friend. An announcement on the news. A tweet. A funny conversation.
A simple, seemingly innocent occurrence, and yet what it really is, is a spark. A reminder that you have passion and purpose. That there are things in your life that you were made to do. Regardless of how busy, or how tired or how many important things there are on your list, if you don’t do what you need to, none of it matters quite as much.
A slowly growing flame, that, if you allow it, will consume you until you can not hold it any more, and you have to do something with it.
You have to try.
I love to write. I need to write, but there are other things too. Other loves that get neglected because of business. Other callings that must be satisfied. Secret, hidden desires that are starting to spark, but unless I fan those flames, they will never be more than embers, held back from their cataclysmic potential. Lonely, quiet, never casting much light on this path of mine.
I think we all have them. Those embers, simmering away beneath the surface, often forgotten and left alone. Willing us to blow on them, and force them, and us to come alive in the way that we were meant to. Begging us to make them a flame and a fire. To burn away the chaff, and leave in it’s wake a light that burns so brightly, that the whole world takes notice.
It’s just what we do with them, that counts.