It’s hard for me to write today. *Story of my life.* But, remarkably, it’s not for the same reasons that it has been over the last several months. For once – for once! – it’s because I’ve got an abundance of excitement energy coursing through my veins, seeping into my bones and muscles, and encouraging a subtle prance.
My body vibrates. My legs bounce. My torso undulates. My eyebrows raise. My mouth smiles. And I breathe deep as I try to settle this energy. It moves in and out. Out towards my limbs and in towards my heart and belly. It pulses between the two with each breath. As I gain control it moves in but it tickles and excites in a way that arouses expression, so it inevitably moves out in an attempt to release.
Explosive release needs to wait. I’m settling in to write. And despite the excitement, I am called to direct my energy and focus inwards; to channel it through my arms, into my fingertips, onto the keyboard, and into words here on this page.
I am day 20 in my cycle. One of the women I follow in the menstrual cycle awareness (MCA) realm says that ovulation is often her least creative time for this reason alone: so much excitement and desire to be outwardly expressed in the world. It doesn’t translate well into focused creative work. It’s like trying to tame a wild horse in one day. It’s damn near impossible.
Can it be done? Sure. Anythings possible. But when it comes to working with (not against) my natural rhythms, I, too, finally acknowledge that this time of my cycle is a naturally difficult time to demand my focus and attention. Not to mention the highly stimulating goings-on in my personal life certainly don’t serve discipline.
But I’ll take it. I haven’t felt this alive in months. Between my uncoupling and my move, I’ve been flirting with depression. To be so excited and stimulated by my personal life right now is utterly welcome. Even if it interferes with the writing process. Which I’ve come to learn – for me – is not straightforward.
I’ve known one person who claims to be able to sit down at any time and spit out thousands of words with little to no problem (e.g. no editing, revising, or creative blocks). But he’s the only one. Most writers I know, myself included, have a complicated relationship with the writing process, including lack of inspiration or ideas, frequently.
What I’ve determined though, after years of back and forth in the writing process, is that despite not being inspired or not having a clue what to write about my desire to and love for writing persists. This tells me that whether I feel like it or not, focused or not, writing will save my soul.
Therefore, here I am, every Friday, showing up to the page. Inspiration or not. Focus or not. No matter where I’m coming from or how I feel all of that slowly falls away as I put one word after another. The inspiration appears. The focus narrows. The words fall into line.
This weekend may you be blessed with utter excitement, coursing energy, and abundant enthusiasm. And as always, may you know the intricacies of your own heart and soul and all the subtle cues and guidance given to you in how your body talks.