I’ve had “writer’s block” lately. Well obviously; I haven’t written anything in a month. It seems to come in waves. I have a month of seeming intense inspiration and realization and then a month (or more) of what would seem to be no thought at all.
Ok, slight exageration.
I have thoughts. A lot actually. Lately, they just seem short and obscure, or sometimes so simple that to admit that I have only now just come to understand them would be embarrassing. And yet, not getting them “out”or processing them outside of my own head drives me crazy. So instead of writing, I have been talking to almost anyone who will listen to everything that I am thinking about. And I am exhausted.
And this week I realized why.
For starters, the most obvious reason for my exhaustion and resulting “writer’s block” is that I have simply over-talked, over-thought, and over-analyzed every situation, circumstance, conversation, glance, and all other forms of verbal or physical communication. And I’m really good at it. I can break down just about anything. I disect nearly everything, trying to find the root, the purpose, the metaphor, the allusion, the meaning, the spiritual context of any encounter with a friend or a stragner, a thought that popped up out of nowhere, or emotional reaction that is uncharacteristic.
To be in a constant state of analysis and observation, from the inside out is neither productive, beneficial, or I dare say healthy. I don’t think I am a mental case, though some may argue, but I do think that I need to learn to let go, relax, and just “roll with it.” Why that is so against my natural state is beyond me because my parents and my brother are all this way. They are all strangers to worry, stress, or over exageration of thought, so it seems not to be genetic… it’s just me. Thus, I am often a source of comic relief to them. We all have our roles I guess.
This week brought some much needed enlightenment though. During my quiet time one morning, I read out of Streams in the Desert, a personal favorite.
I implore you not to give into despair. I tis a dangerous temptation,
because our Advesary has refined it to the point that it is quite subtle.
Hopelessness constricts and withers the heart, rendering it unable to sense
God’s blessings and grace. It also causes you to exagerate the adversitites of
life and make your burdens seem to heavy for you to bear. Yet God’s plans for
you, and His ways of bringing about His plans, are infinitely
The italized part is what hit home for me. The more I talked about life in general, everydays happenings, questions, etc. the bigger they became, the more insurmountable they appeared to be, and the more out of control my life felt. And, to a certain degree, I did begin to despair. Because in my mind I felt like a failure. I couldn’t answer every question. I expecially could not answer every question with a really deep and spiritually proufound Christian answer. I simply shrugged my shoulders. Then, suprisingly, my despair turned into a desperation for direction, truth, and wisdom that would pull me out of this apparent slump, this foreign land of “Uhh, I don’t know.”