Reflections On My Writing

I feel it’s odd that I can’t find words when I’m feeling comfort in my day-to-day life. As if my words are only expressions of my discomfort — as if expelling them from my brain was a way of releasing the toxins of anxiety, depression, loneliness, and so forth. Perhaps it is.

Without the feelings I associate with the self I am trying to overcome, the words stop, my mind slows, and I feel calm. The more peace I experience, the less I feel I need to fight to escape myself. But I also miss it — I miss the beauty of stitching words together; the art of literary flow. I find joy in reading other people’s works, but there is something special about creating my own. When I’m in a darker place, I spend countless hours piecing together a tapestry of language that will never see the light of day. I do this for myself; for my own sanity. I do this to release the emotional toxins trapped within my mind.

When I’ve reached my personal middle ground, I find thoughts that I deem as shareable with the world; ideas and feelings that I dare to put out in the universe, to float around and be a part of something larger than myself. When I’m busy and healthy and feeling very positive about my life, when I’m comfortable and calm and outwardly focused, there are so few words. They come fleetingly, and then I find one more thing that needs to be done.

One more thing that seeks a priority space on my ever growing to-do list. One more chore. One more adventure. One more run. One more episode. One more get-together. Just one more … and then I’ll get to it.

The reflecting and the writing have taken a backseat to the more opulent objects of my affection — the running, cycling, climbing, the long novels, series on Netflix, random dinners out, drinks with friends, the camping trips, volunteer days, trail runs and hikes; all the things I’ve found that are just simply fun. And the writing slows, the journaling becomes sporadic. Perhaps it is a good thing?

Let this be my reflection for today … Let this be me, reflecting on the happiness and joy that life brings. Let these few words represent that emotional mountains can be conquered; that every miserable hill in life has another side to it. Let me remind myself that life is good. 

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