You know that terribly annoying feeling when you feel a sneeze coming on and you’re ready for it – all prepared for the coming facial explosion that will remedy the tickling in your schnoz, but it never comes? That is how I feel right now as I sit and wait for the words I can feel within me to burst forth upon the page. They’re tickling the corners of my mind, but they simply won’t come.
I’ve sat with pen in hand, blank page before me beckoning me to fill it, I’ve stared at a blinking cursor on a brightly lit screen for longer than I care to admit, pleading with my muse, who has quite obviously forsaken me, to breath even the smallest breath of inspiration my way.
Nothing.
I’m near to bursting with the need for release, and yet, I’m for lack of a better word at the moment, blocked.
I’ve come upon a seemingly impenetrable barrier, perhaps of my own design, and it seems the more I try to chip away at it, the stronger it becomes. I don’t recall building this wall, but it has all the hallmarks of my own handiwork. I’ve built similar walls brick by infuriating brick and used my self-doubt as mortar to seal myself behind them. This one seems fortified from the outside as well as in though and I’m thinking about simply hanging some art on the wall and calling it home.
I won’t of course, but this is my particular pity party for one so I’m allowed to be dramatic. The truth is, there is probably a door somewhere and I’m just not looking for it hard enough. I could attempt to climb my way out, in a way I suppose that is what I’m doing now, but it’s tiring work, climbing. I don’t seem to be making much progress either, I’m trying to chisel away stone to make footholds with a feather and the going is slow.
I’ve been questioning myself of late, wondering why I care how the words come out. Wondering why I bother to share them at all, if not for the sharing, would I care how they were arranged? They aren’t even mine – the words – I however, am theirs and must do their bidding. But then, if that is the case, why do they trouble me so sometimes? Bothersome, beautiful burdens words can often be. Fickle things that pick people to give them life upon pages and then torment them as they do.
Oh, but without them . . . I cannot imagine.
Well, back to it then, there’s a door around here somewhere.
The Qwiet Muse 
I couldn’t possibly relate to this more. You did find words…to describe something universal.
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What a beautiful way to compare writer’s block with a sneeze that just won’t happen! I know exactly how you feel and I’m sure everyone who has ever tried to write in the history of ever knows too.
I hope by now you’ve found a way to get unstuck and if not, don’t let it get to you. Take a rest, do something completely unrelated and get back to it at a later time. 🙂
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How I love this! Even your writer’s block is artistic and elegant. You don’t need a window, you’re standing in a great big giant field of daisies.
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That made my heart smile 🙂 Thank you!
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I’m there too. Had a ton of ideas today. Wrote them down. Will try tomorrow.
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All I seem to have of late is ideas 🙂
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I think we’ve all been there. I agree with Sondi, don’t self edit as you write, just write every day. Even if none of it sees the light of day, you create the habit, flex that creative muscle and/or give yourselves a great laugh. Should see some of mine.
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My notebooks and journals and computer files are bursting, one of these days maybe some of those scribbled words will actually see the light of day 🙂
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I hope so
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I have times like that. Usually, when I do, I go searching my collections of quotes, aphorisms, songs, journal pages (when truly desperate), searching for a key or a starting point, or a whack up side the head (that’s the journals generally, musings, complaints, and seeming insights from way, way back). If all else fails, getting busy doing something else, far from the paper or screen – then the muse can say, “Hey, here it is.” and try to remember long enough to start the writing.
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You sound much like me . . . the searching – My muse is a mischievous thing 🙂
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That the Muses are tricksters has been known from ancient times. LOL
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To be read, to be read, TO BE READ!
*hugs*
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Yes 🙂 To be read . . . but first, the writing! The words are there, they just refuse to assemble sometimes!
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Fantastically summarised, and the irony is, you got a story out of it in describing IT aka writers block
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Thank you . . . sometimes writing about not writing is the only thing that gets me writing!
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I feel like I always have all the ideas, and always have so much trouble getting them out. I always find some reason why the words don’t flow. Lots to think about.
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My flow is a trickle of late . . . I’m waiting for the deluge 🙂
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Ah, yes! The inevitable “writer’s block.” To chip away at it, start by making writing a habit, a boring chore that you have to do regularly. Eventually, like making the bed, though you may not make it perfectly, you will make it. I’m sure you’ve heard this advice before, but it bears repeating because it works. Don’t worry about writing well. Just write. And, as a friend said to me recently, “When you’re writing, you go exploring. Editing is hunting instead of exploring.” (http://bit.ly/1Us8Xg5) So, when you’re writing, don’t try to edit. Go exploring. See what you can discover when you’re not looking for something. 😉
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Like breathing, right 🙂 Thank you for the words of wisdom . . .
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