I’ve been away from this blog for a long time.
In my deep dive into a quiet spiritual place, writing fell away as a discipline. I still wrote, but in fits and starts, as it arose. I let that happen, knowing I needed to step back to allow a new way of writing develop. Or not. I knew it might not, and accepted that. That in itself was the greatest surprise, the greatest indicator of deep change. Writing was no longer the central joy of my life, and I was willing to let it go, if that where this new depth took me.
It seems to be bringing me back to writing, in a drive to submit a story, to write a grant application, to get other things sorted to make space for whatever is coming, this new way of writing that hasn’t arisen yet. I don’t know what form it will take, although I have hints. A project on meditating in my garden. More writing for children. Poetry. I’m learning to let it come, when it’s ready. I respond to what arises. Today, that includes working on a grant application. Perhaps it will be less gruesome than usual, as I simply write it, and leave the omg I hate this I hate this I hate this for someone else to play with.
Maureen
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