Most of the time when I come to write a blog, I find ideas spring to mind. If not eventually, then at the utterance of a word, or someone around me thinking out loud. Something funny will happen between me and my Ma, or I’ll come to a revelation in regards to me and le man.
But today I have found it particularly difficult to even get started. Sometimes I find it hard to separate myself from my writing, especially on this blog. Although I tend to write quite personal pieces, they are often written several hours or days later, when the events are no longer a part of my present. They can adopt a life of their own then, because I feel they have had time to breathe and take on a new lease of life.
However, this day has brought with it a whole heap of turbulent roller-coasters in regards to my emotions and it formed a bit of a block in terms of me getting started. Which elspod was I supposed to present?
* * *
I was woken up in the early hours of this morning by a phone call. After a few moments of blurry blinking and confused fumbling for the phone, I managed to answer it and bumble through the conversation. Good news! I’d been offered an interview for a job on Sunday!
Let the dancing in pyjamas commence!
A lazy start to the day with le man followed, sweltering in the heat and taking shelter inside by watching a bit of Breaking Bad. (Which, for those who watch it, I’m sure will agree is an emotional ride all by itself!)
But time passed all too quickly, as it always does, and no sooner was I settled in his arms than he was plucked away, chasing down the dusty road to catch a bus home for an evening with his family.
I spent the next few hours rattling around a very empty house, like a lonely dice on a monopoly board.
Suddenly, it was as if the world knew I was at a loose end and I started receiving phone calls and texts and messages. Emails were sending my phone into a frenzy and a dog started barking outside the door, yapping at it’s approaching owner. I was the recipient of bad news and news that made me angry and support that made me smile.
And at the end of it all, an tired younger sister arrived home expecting tea.
I was exhausted. I was shaking from residual anger, and trying to process things that were said as I pottered away making spaghetti bolognese, banging pots and pans around and burning mince onto the hob. Everything had gone from so perfect to so stressful in such a quick turn-around of events that I hardly knew what to do with myself.
Which is why, as I sat down to put fingers to keyboard and attempt to make contact with the wider world in the vague hopes that someone would hear me…that I paused. I didn’t know what to say.
* * *
Ultimately, my problem was that I didn’t know where my head was at. Mid-rant to my sister, I worried that I didn’t feel comfortable writing something that wasn’t real to me in that moment. I didn’t feel I could re-blog an old post or present a few paragraphs on hope or happiness that I wasn’t truly channeling. So she simply said to me:
‘Then don’t. Write whatever.’
Wise words from a youngling.
It’s something so many of us struggle with. It’s not realistic to think that whenever I sit down to write, then what I pen will be true, that simply not how it works. It’s just that sometimes, I need it to be true.
When deadlines are approaching or pressures are on, there are those occasions when you feel unable to produce anything worth reading. I’m pretty sure this wasn’t worth a read, but then again, at least what I’ve presented to you is true, at least for right now. I chose to present to you the only elspod I know how to be in this moment.
And this moment, right now, well…it’s all we have isn’t it?