I'm sorry to hear you're still having difficulties so many months on from your injury, Rita, and I can imagine how frustrating and depressing that would be. Your post has made me realize it's been about ten years since I started my blog—and since we first met—and I can still remember all the plans I had for it, and for other writing projects as well. I wish I had some coping strategies to offer for writerly roadblocks, but I seem to simply be standing still, staring at the roadblock, unable to tell myself (formally) that I am giving up, and yet also unable to motivate myself to do anything to get around the roadblock. I pick up my knitting, or I read, or I doom scroll and fret about the state of the world, none of which helps in the writing department. I have no answers, but I can at least wish you well, Rita. I hope the new treatment regime brings some relief.
For whatever it is worth, I loved your blog. Your writing is so thoughtful, and you have such worthwhile things to say. (And how can that have been 10 years ago? Time...) I think that as long as you haven't told yourself you are giving up on writing, you haven't given up. It can come back. (It can even if you tell yourself you've given up.) What I wish for you is whatever will give you peace with it all. Giving up on some kinds of writing did that for me. You might, in this time, be accumulating other things you need that will come out as writing later. Sending you all my good wishes, Marian.
Poor noggin. I am so sorry! I know you know that the best right thing is to take this incrementally and to look for silver linings in doing less. But, gosh - for someone who is used to being such a doer, I'm sure that's reaaaaally hard. I'm glad walking is part of the healing process, and I must say those glasses look sweet on you! I obviously can't speak for everyone here, but my guess is we are all totally fine with taking what comes, sporadic or not. Do what's needed to prioritize yourself and your healing. You have some other big transitions coming along. Maybe the focus is there for the next little while. Creativity can be a few sentences, or the song you hear in your head that no one else can sing. Hugs, Rita.
Thank you, Elizabeth. I agree that creativity can be small things, and that it all counts! And thank you for recognizing that it is hard for a doer to not be able to do! The walking is a balm, and good for everyone in so many ways. Silver linings!
For what it's worth, I always look forward to your newsletter. Maybe all your plentiful ideas for this space haven't come to fruition in the way that you thought they would, but I'm happy to be along for the ride and read what you choose to publish.
The vestibular system is something I took for granted (did I even know it existed?) until I had some issues crop up in the last few years... and the physical therapy was incredibly tedious and time consuming. Hang in there! Hope this "unwelcome visitor" recedes and allows something wonderful to come your way.
Thank you, Diana. I so appreciate connecting with you through our online spaces. I wasn't aware of the vestibular system, either! And thank you for validating that the physical therapy is both tedious and time-consuming. It is so boring! I will not take this system for granted again.
Friend, I don't want to use the word sorry, and I'm not quite sure why. I guess I'm tired of hearing it in my direction. "Stop feeling sorry for me, dammit." 🤣 I hate this for you right now. But, I like your attitude about it. I learn so much from you. I love that I do. Sending you lots of love and healing. Let's heal together, okay? (also, you look badass in those glasses)
Oh, I didn't realize how much I felt what you're saying about "sorry" until I read this! Thank you! (And I promise not to say it to you again.) I love the idea of healing together. Let's do it.
"Think of how boring our stories would be if we had no conflicts, no challenges, no opportunities for growth." You said it! Too much of the same old same old isn't worth writing about. Of course you getting better and moving beyond your current eye problems would be a kind of non-conflict that is good.
My creative pursuits this past April have been in the garden and oddly enough playing Candy Crush on my iPad. I do some of my best thinking while I zone out. My creativity flares as my game scores add up.
I love that Candy Crush is a tool for creativity. I get what you mean about your best thinking coming while you're zoned out. For me, it's in the shower. Can't think of how many times I've rushed through the house dripping so that I can get something written down before it slips away from me. I'm guessing the garden does the same thing for you? (The zoning, not dripping.) Isn't it nice that it's gardening season again? I always say that's my best therapy.
It makes a pretty amazing story already! As for writing, you are a shining light, and that's a calling, isn't it? I don't think you're allowed to give it up. Love whatever you lay out there.
“This part of what it means to cultivate a creative life—times of metaphorical drought, disease, bad weather, thin crops. They come for all of us.” This is true and wise, and so is your post. I’m sorry you are struggling- I find it is so frustrating when healing takes longer than we planned and this is often how it goes. Lean in to what you can do…walking, bits of writing, and give yourself grace. Thank you for the shout out- so honored that my writing feeds your spirit. 🌸
I love the saying, you are right where you are supposed to be... for whatever the reasons. Take care and hopefully your healing will speed up a bit. 💕
Thank you, Sue. I was saying just those words yesterday about a family member in a tough place right now.
I'm sorry to hear you're still having difficulties so many months on from your injury, Rita, and I can imagine how frustrating and depressing that would be. Your post has made me realize it's been about ten years since I started my blog—and since we first met—and I can still remember all the plans I had for it, and for other writing projects as well. I wish I had some coping strategies to offer for writerly roadblocks, but I seem to simply be standing still, staring at the roadblock, unable to tell myself (formally) that I am giving up, and yet also unable to motivate myself to do anything to get around the roadblock. I pick up my knitting, or I read, or I doom scroll and fret about the state of the world, none of which helps in the writing department. I have no answers, but I can at least wish you well, Rita. I hope the new treatment regime brings some relief.
xo Marian
For whatever it is worth, I loved your blog. Your writing is so thoughtful, and you have such worthwhile things to say. (And how can that have been 10 years ago? Time...) I think that as long as you haven't told yourself you are giving up on writing, you haven't given up. It can come back. (It can even if you tell yourself you've given up.) What I wish for you is whatever will give you peace with it all. Giving up on some kinds of writing did that for me. You might, in this time, be accumulating other things you need that will come out as writing later. Sending you all my good wishes, Marian.
Poor noggin. I am so sorry! I know you know that the best right thing is to take this incrementally and to look for silver linings in doing less. But, gosh - for someone who is used to being such a doer, I'm sure that's reaaaaally hard. I'm glad walking is part of the healing process, and I must say those glasses look sweet on you! I obviously can't speak for everyone here, but my guess is we are all totally fine with taking what comes, sporadic or not. Do what's needed to prioritize yourself and your healing. You have some other big transitions coming along. Maybe the focus is there for the next little while. Creativity can be a few sentences, or the song you hear in your head that no one else can sing. Hugs, Rita.
Thank you, Elizabeth. I agree that creativity can be small things, and that it all counts! And thank you for recognizing that it is hard for a doer to not be able to do! The walking is a balm, and good for everyone in so many ways. Silver linings!
For what it's worth, I always look forward to your newsletter. Maybe all your plentiful ideas for this space haven't come to fruition in the way that you thought they would, but I'm happy to be along for the ride and read what you choose to publish.
The vestibular system is something I took for granted (did I even know it existed?) until I had some issues crop up in the last few years... and the physical therapy was incredibly tedious and time consuming. Hang in there! Hope this "unwelcome visitor" recedes and allows something wonderful to come your way.
Thank you, Diana. I so appreciate connecting with you through our online spaces. I wasn't aware of the vestibular system, either! And thank you for validating that the physical therapy is both tedious and time-consuming. It is so boring! I will not take this system for granted again.
Friend, I don't want to use the word sorry, and I'm not quite sure why. I guess I'm tired of hearing it in my direction. "Stop feeling sorry for me, dammit." 🤣 I hate this for you right now. But, I like your attitude about it. I learn so much from you. I love that I do. Sending you lots of love and healing. Let's heal together, okay? (also, you look badass in those glasses)
Oh, I didn't realize how much I felt what you're saying about "sorry" until I read this! Thank you! (And I promise not to say it to you again.) I love the idea of healing together. Let's do it.
"Think of how boring our stories would be if we had no conflicts, no challenges, no opportunities for growth." You said it! Too much of the same old same old isn't worth writing about. Of course you getting better and moving beyond your current eye problems would be a kind of non-conflict that is good.
My creative pursuits this past April have been in the garden and oddly enough playing Candy Crush on my iPad. I do some of my best thinking while I zone out. My creativity flares as my game scores add up.
I love that Candy Crush is a tool for creativity. I get what you mean about your best thinking coming while you're zoned out. For me, it's in the shower. Can't think of how many times I've rushed through the house dripping so that I can get something written down before it slips away from me. I'm guessing the garden does the same thing for you? (The zoning, not dripping.) Isn't it nice that it's gardening season again? I always say that's my best therapy.
It makes a pretty amazing story already! As for writing, you are a shining light, and that's a calling, isn't it? I don't think you're allowed to give it up. Love whatever you lay out there.
Thank you, Bethany. These words mean so much coming from you.
“This part of what it means to cultivate a creative life—times of metaphorical drought, disease, bad weather, thin crops. They come for all of us.” This is true and wise, and so is your post. I’m sorry you are struggling- I find it is so frustrating when healing takes longer than we planned and this is often how it goes. Lean in to what you can do…walking, bits of writing, and give yourself grace. Thank you for the shout out- so honored that my writing feeds your spirit. 🌸
Your writing really does lift my spirits. 💕
❤️ It brings me such joy to know that. Thank you!