I know there are times where the words just don’t seem to flow, but is that really “writer’s block?” I mean maybe I just don’t feel like writing something today. Maybe I have other things to do. Or maybe I’m a bit burnt.
Sometimes writing something, a story from the past or a poem about a relationship, is just like a sucker punch to the gut. It knocks the wind right out of me, and I really need some recovery time. Some mindless activity to let a new scab form over that old wound.
Some wounds take a while to heal. Some never seem to heal. Such is life.
In fact, some wounds I don’t want to heal. Never.
Now that might sound weird, but stop and think about it for a minute. Or two. Or three, maybe. However long you need. It may only be a blink of an eye for some of you.
There was a point I hit when I was a nurse where I had seen so much trauma that I really feared that I would no longer be able to cry. Seriously. Is there a limit on tears? Are we only given the capacity to have so many? Only allowed to cry one river of tears? If so, my tears were all used up.
But I experienced another tragedy shortly after that fear hit me that left me crying for a full day. And while the events of that tragedy were awful, I’m glad I experienced it. And I hold onto it. And I cry every time I think about it. And it happened over 25 years ago.
I’m just glad that I didn’t lose the human connection. My ability to empathize. My ability to feel emotion. To feel pain.
I think it’s essential to life itself.
If you lose this ability, you’re no longer human. You would no longer even be animal. You would be a machine. Processing mechanical inputs and spitting out mechanical outputs.
To feel is to heal. To feel is to love. To feel is to live.
To feel for another’s suffering demonstrates that interconnection we have with everything in all life. To actually feel the same feelings that another entity is experiencing, well, that’s a true connection of spirit.
It’s illuminating. It’s invaluable. It’s enlightenment in a raw form.
Photo: A portion of a dandelion’s head – its seeds covered in the morning dew. Imagine each drop of water to be a separate story. A story of life. All such stories are intertwined 🙂