The first time I felt this way, and had the very same thought, I was standing in the shower watching the snow fall down outside the frosted glass of the bathroom window; the second also in the shower, though this time the sun was shining – or trying to shine – outside. This third time I am once again in the shower, but this time it is dark, the temperature of the shower is far too high, and rather than watching the distorted world through the bathroom window’s frosted glass, I am watching the steam obscuring my view, the condensation settling on the window, shrouding the frosted glass and the symbolism of it finally penetrates my brain as the question surfaces again: Why have I not been blogging? Why do I not post my status on Facebook? Do I truly have nothing to say?
Oh, certainly, I might share a whole bunch of photographs or inspirational quotations from other pages that I find meaningful or poignant, and sometimes I might even do more than just hit the share button, and post a word or two about why I have shared them, but little more.
I’ve known for some time I’ve been censoring myself; editing myself so that the frames come together to tell the story in another way, because… well.. frankly it’s just easier that way – far less conflict.
Except inside myself.
So I said, on several occasions, that I wasn’t going to do it any more, and yet here I am still doing it… and frustrating myself in that. I have ended up feeling like I have (or worse yet, should have) no voice, no opinion and certainly no feelings. The upshot of which has further hampered any sense of creativity and life that was all but stifled – as if with a pillow over the face – by a year long sojourn in Egypt.
Happily I’m out of that situation now. Still not where I truly want to be, but… what can I say? Some countries and some of her peoples are certainly backwards in their own sense of egality and in following the literal, and the meaning in spirit, of their own founding principles. So much so, that they shroud any route toward said egality in so much thorny red tape that even their own citizens do not know and cannot understand all the ins and outs of navigating it in order to gain admittance. I hate politics… and that’s one thing you probably won’t find me blogging about any time soon, (more than I have done just here anyway).
So what’s to say, and what’s to do, and definitely what’s to write when all that was creative in my soul has been somehow deadened to the point where, yes – I will latch on to anything that is in the remotest bit a resuscitation, a work around, or even a leg up and over the dreaded wall of ‘writer’s block’ that has been plaguing me for the last eighteen months or so?
The Use’ara cycle was coming along nicely, getting the Nano treatment but then was interrupted by the move to Cairo. Similarly the Life After series ground to an unceremonious halt. I turned to fandom to keep some shred of creativity alive, and managed at least to finish the 13th story of a series I had been working on before the block caught up even there.
But I digress…
As far as Facebook is concerned, I feel… uncomfortable, that’s a nice gentle word, let’s use that one, posting about what’s going on and how I feel about it. I know I shouldn’t, but sometimes, some of the posts I read on my news feed seem so much like people just airing their dirty linen in public, as it were. Do I really want to do that? Maybe it’s just my overly conservative (note the small c) British nature that causes that. Should I adopt a more bolshy, forthright approach like other world citizens and just… tell it like it is, warts and all? Maybe I should try it for a while and see or feel the results for myself.
As for blogging, well, I find that the trouble with a lot of blogging is that in many cases, it tends toward political comments. I’ve already stated I don’t really do politics. Oh, I live with them, like everyone has to because they’re a sad fact of life. I have an opinion on political matters too, but in most cases that is my own and not for sharing. The trouble with political blogging is that, at least to me, it seems always to be hateful and angry. There is much to be said for exercising the option not to say anything at all, and to allow that to speak for your opinion and feelings on a matter. Is that not the basis of the advice your mother always told you: If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all? Other types of blogging require… well… something to happen to inspire it. Stuck in my little hamster-wheel I usually end up feeling like the most boring person on the face of the planet. Who wants to read over and over again about the traffic on my way to wherever, and the kids (Whether hellions or angels) that I meet and work with?
Oh, I know there’s more to it than that, and yes, I’m probably making excuses because – as happened very recently – when I do open my yap about something or another, it rarely ends up with me feeling any better about things and/or myself. But, since discourse is generally thought of as good, and because I have to do something to unlock this door, or take a wrecking ball to the wall that is standing between me and the creativity, which I know has to be on the other side of the wall, let this be a public affirmation of the permission to at least try… and feel free to poke me – but gently – with reminders to comply with my own wishes.
(A/N: As an demonstration of what I mean through all of this – it has taken me 3 months to write this.)