Photo: The Fairy Garden after a second summer! Things are practically overgrown! I don’t know the names of any of these succulents. They’re just pretty and weird. Can I winter them over? We’ll see!
I know there are other aspiring writers who read this blog, so when I write that Writer’s Block is a real, physical thing, I know they’ll understand. For those of ya’ll Dear Readers who don’t write, I should explain: Writer’s Block hurts. It’s like a headache, but it’s a different kind of discomfort. It’s a seizing, a numbing… a tangible wall in the brain. Desire is there, but it slams up against something invisible, yet physical.
The wall isn’t fully built yet, but it’s coming. I can feel it. A whole week of no headspace, plus a pretty intense weekend of work, and another day of just more input without a lot of support or quiet… I’m about to be toast. I need to breathe. I need quiet. I need real quiet.
So I’m going to breathe. Meatballs, maybe a couple rows of knitting, and then I’m going to bed early. I need sleep. I need quiet. I mostly, mostly need quiet. I’m making the space. I think that if I play my cards right, I can hold this off… and if I can hold this off, all will be well.
So, I’m embarrassed to put up another fail post. I’m so sorry, Dear Reader. Better this than just silence for a week, which is very possible if I get really, truly blocked.
This is what self-care looks like in action. Let no one say I don’t practice what I preach.
If you need quiet, Dear Reader, take it. Take care. It’s important.
Until Wednesday, take care.