On dark nights in the midst of Winter, I often find myself wondering ~ why do we create?
Why am I propelled, driven forward by some intangible, weightless yet weighted desire to put pen to paper, put typeface to script, to live and breathe my dreams into existence on the page in front of me?
And perhaps the answer to that is the satisfaction of all those things, rolled into one. When I’m writing, the fear of not creating ~ the ‘whys’ and ‘whens‘ and ‘wherefores’ ~ all melt away into a blurry mess that sits behind me and doesn’t bother me for a second.
But some days it doesn’t come. Some days I’m spent. Some days the thought of churning out something becomes just as ominous and sickly as that ~ ‘churning out’. Like a milk pail in an old dairy. And then I wonder where it’s gone, that need to create.
I should trust that it always comes back.
Like daffodils and crocuses peaking through the soil, it always comes back. For this is my therapy. This is what makes me sing and brings me joy. This is what I turn to at the end of the day and what I think about at night. So why would it leave?
Even in the depths of my journey, I have found people around me. And I have found my way back.
I read in Sarah Wilson’s wonderful book, First, We Make The Beast Beautiful: A New Story About Anxiety that it takes 60 days for the brain to learn new habits. I am giving myself 60 days to break the habit of drinking every night, of feeling panic and anxiety when it comes to leaving the house or cleaning things, of having obsessive and compulsive thoughts… for these are all things that would make me feel better. 60 days. After a slightly shaky start which saw me dissolve into OCD after just 5 days on my new program, I am now back up and running and on Day 3. Wish me luck! I’ll be documenting my journey here.
In Love&Light, FS XOX
A Daughter of Nyx 