A Calm Imagination

I have been hit with the “ich” to write but I have nothing to say. It’s not like I don’t have anything to talk about. I have a whole library of experiences and a full notebook of topics I could churn into words across this screen. Yet, I’m scrolling through social media looking for some kind of inspiration. It’s not usually like this; where I feel the urge to write but I have nothing to write about. Usually, my mind starts filling up with sentences and words. So, I open up my computer and start transferring them over before they consume my thoughts. Otherwise I spend my entire day distracted. I feel like I want to say something, but my head is blank except for the fact that I have nothing to put out. I guess this is kind of what peace feels like for those of us who are used to the chaos.

Those of us who were born in destruction and have grown up constantly having to solve problems and fix disasters, finally achieving tranquility makes us feel restless. When nothing is plaguing our minds with worry or wrenching our stomachs with anxiety, we experience boredom and lack inspiration. We have had to endure having our faces continuously slammed into the cement over and over again until one day it just stops. The beating and torment have stopped long enough for us to heal our wounds and we’re left sitting in the quiet of the aftermath, with nothing left over to tackle.

We fight so hard for peace yet don’t quite know what to do with it when it finally shows up. We just sit and wait for the other shoe to drop. When my Demons and Monsters don’t have much to say or do they just roam and pace waiting to make their next move. They’ve never existed in an environment where they didn’t need to be proactive and productive. My moments of sanity are instigating their insanity and I’m not sure how to soothe them because I’ve never been here before.

My bursts of inspiration usually come in the valley of voids that I become succumbed to or a moment of intense anxiety brought on by some natural disaster I am distracting myself from. These are the moments I go missing. I disappear into the storm with my laptop and writing utensils. When I emerge I have a ton of material to use, and nights occupied with edits and graphic design. Eventually, however, the material runs out or I’m forcing myself through a project that I started in a fit of despair. Now I’m motivated to release them to the world, but my creative gene is subdued by serenity. Oh, to be an artist without misery and stimulation, is one hell of a feat.

A few days ago while outside in nature I laid down flat on the ground and looked up at the clouds. Sometimes when I spend too much time in my head I like to air out my thoughts and touch dirt. It helps bring me back to reality and it reassures me that everything is alright. Us spiritual girlies call it grounding and it truly works. In that moment I felt incredibly content and comfortably peaceful. There’s something about the wind, the earth, the moon, and the water that makes me feel more alive and fuels my wild imagination.

They don’t tell you that contentment and peace can be boring. Sometimes I can’t decipher between calmness or numbness. It’s like sitting on an anchored ship instead of cruising through treacherous waters. There’s excitement in the storm, but the calming waters can lull you to sleep. Perhaps that’s why I have felt so exhausted lately. My nervous system isn’t in overdrive and my body is rocking to the gentle currents. Sleep comes a little easier these days.

I hear some women on the internet say they are waiting for a man to put them in their “soft girl” era. No Judgment there! Of course I would love to find a good man someday. How ironic it is, however, that the softest I’ve ever felt was in the solitude of my own haven. I am a boss through and through. I’ll always do what needs to be done and be one hell of a go-getter but my inner lover girl has never felt more safe. A little lonely sometimes, sure! Bored and uninspired more often than I would like, absolutely! But for the first time, she feels safe. It’s the healed masculine in me protecting the gentle feminine parts of me. She finally feels secure enough to roam freely about her Empire, and I love that for her. Even if that means finding new paths of inspiration and different topics to write about. She’s earned her place here.