Another attempt to explain.

June 5, 2017

I used to write so much.

Why did I stop?  And why, despite intentions I list every year in my NY resolutions, have I been reluctant to begin again?

I guess I have made some attempts – scribbled in various new notebooks hoping the smell of the clean crisp pages and the idea of a fresh start would inspire me.  It has not.

I write, and stop.  I try, and fail.

There is so much clutter and confusion in my head. There are thoughts I don’t want to confront and feelings I deny.  There is a scream I silence.  But sometimes it gets so loud and I hear it so clearly, and I’m so afraid that soon others will, too.

I am not living my preferred life.  It is not a story I feel proud to write, much less center, in.  It is not a story that I think reflects my heart or my values.

But I have spent little time reflecting on my heart and my values.  Come to think of it now, I am not so sure what I mean except that I think both have been neglected for too long.

I value independence and autonomy, team work and partnership.

I value friendship.

I value love. compassion. and honesty.  I value purity.

My heart was once full of care, hopes, and dreams.

But I feel so hushed.  I feel so small. I feel like a child whose wonder and innocence was stripped away.  What is left?  Feelings of incompetence, powerlessness, helplessness, and loneliness.

Will I ever shine again?

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