Today something really strange happened. I sat down to write my blog post for the week, and I came up empty.
Writing blog posts is one of my favorite things to do. I love writing, I love talking about the mind-body connection, and I love the unending conversation with you out there in cyber-space. I have a bulletin board on my wall filled with post-its, and on each one is a blog post idea. I’m looking at it right now, and there are seventeen ideas sitting there.
Each week, I either already know what I want to write about or I scan the idea board and see which idea is asking to be written. It’s usually a delightful process that I savor like a delicious piece of dark chocolate. I sink into writing and emerge feeling rested and alive. It’s rejuvenating.
Today, none of the ideas spoke to me. None of them wanted to be written yet. I sat for a moment, assessing my body’s messages. I felt like writing. I wanted to write. But nothing was coming.
I asked myself why. I got really curious. (That happens a lot. I’m so curious about whatever is showing up in my life or inner world on a day-to-day basis. I’m curious about my clients, too. I have an unending stream of curiosity. What makes us feel, think, and act? What makes us who we are in this moment? It’s just so fascinating!)
I found my mind drifting to last week’s blog post, about the In-Between. I’m still getting comments, emails, and Facebook messages about it, so it’s been a pretty steady conversation. Little did I know how many of you are in the In-Between with me! It’s nice to have such great company.
And then I realized—I’m still so smack in the In-Between that I can’t yet write about anything else. I’ve been in the In-Between for a couple of months. At least one month was spent resisting the In-Between. (Naturally.) Then I spent a few weeks making friends with the In-Between. Today, I find myself wanting to know when this damn In-Between ends. Huh. Guess I might be resisting it again.
I’m pretty sure my life lesson right now is learning to be in the space of not knowing a whole lot about what’s next. Usually, I’m a strong visionary. I see exactly how I want things to be in my life, and then I create the vision. I make it real. I LOVE that process.
Right now, I’m awfully wishy-washy. I have a lot of ideas, and I’m quite uncertain as to which ones I’ll run with. I’m working with my website team on the new website concept, and I find myself having commitment phobia about nearly everything we suggest. I’ve spent two weeks thinking about what kind of lamps I want in the new living room, and I still have no idea.
It just goes to show that transitional periods are, um . . . interesting. I wish I knew exactly what I wanted right now. I wish I could see what’s next, besides what’s next in about five minutes. But, the truth is, all I really know is what I want to do in the next five minutes. I can’t see much further, and I’m apparently going to just have to get used to it.
I think what I’m learning here is that everything is always ever-changing. Even when I see grand visions and have specific dreams, I end up tweaking them along the way. And sometimes they happen in ways I could never have imagined. I’m flying blind right now because having the vision sometimes gets in the way.
I’m discovering, in this five minutes, one piece of the puzzle. Or one half of a piece of the puzzle. I’m getting little clues, hints, and tidbits that will make up a whole. I trust that I don’t really have to know, with my mind, what my website will contain, or whether these are the right ideas.
