Someone recently asked me why I haven’t been writing. What used to be my release has turned into a chore. The words that used to flow so freely from my fingers, are now elusive, lost in the clutter in my head. What I think no longer translates into something sensible or tangible, but rather into staccato fragments and brainstorms that do not find their way to be published.
I’ve likened my life as of late to a free-fall. Falling- floating-eyes above me-don’t know where I’m going-where I’m at- or which way is up- feels like an eternity of not knowing when I’m going to hit the ground.
Things are happening all around me and I feel like I have lost all sense of control — of my feelings, of my mind, and of the path that I thought I already chose. Not to say my life is in tumult. Far from it, actually: I am happy, being around whom I love, doing what I love. I am ten thousand percent convinced that I have the right team, what I am unsure of is the timing of it all.
Team and timing. It’s about team and timing. Have I gotten them both right at the same time? Only time will tell.
For those of you who have wondered why I haven’t been writing, my answer is this. I haven’t been writing, because I’ve been LIVING. Analyzing, dissecting, and detailing every ache of my heart and wrinkle in my brain took a back seat to a spontaneous, self-discovery free fall, to which I owe all the happiness in my life at the moment.
I’m not afraid of hitting the ground. What I am afraid of, is finding out what’s there. For now, I’m enjoying the fall.
Falling into a routine
Falling out of place
Falling for him
Falling flat on my face
Falling into my niche
I’m falling. But you know what? It feels like flying.