Ever since the launch of The Gnarly Whale, I’ve been stuck.
It’s like my mind was on overdrive until the day we launched, and then as soon as I published the last listing, it stopped. Completely shut down.
I’ve started more posts than I’ve posted. I’ve had more ideas for posts than ever before. But they don’t formulate into readable and understandable words outside of my brain. They form incoherent thoughts that consistently remind me that I’m not writing as well as I’d like to be. That I’m not sharing my story the way that I would like to. And that I’m not bringing the real me to the blog in a way that I promised myself that I would.
So what happened? Why the sudden downfall of creativity after a major accomplishment was achieved? Did I lose my direction? Did I lose sight of the end goal? Am I trying to find my way out? Or did I just stop functioning because there was no longer a “next big thing” waiting for me to complete it as soon as I could?
I try to break free from it. A change of venue, a change of style, a change of time. I try blocking off time for creativity and non-work related items. And still I sit here, struggling to come up with the right words to tell you exactly how or what I’m feeling about life. About business. About anything.
Maybe it just takes time, and maybe I’m just too impatient, and maybe even a little selfish. But I want to keep the creativity flowing. I don’t want to search around in the dark for a switch that may not even be in the same spot every time. I want it to stay on, endlessly flowing, allowing me to bring my passion to the surface whenever it’s needed. Is that too much to ask?
The disconnect makes it harder and harder each day to write even another sentence because I’m always waiting. Waiting for the creativity to stop mid-sentence. Waiting for the words to stop coming. Waiting for my brain to wander on to the next thing, leaving me to accomplish nothing.
Do I push forward? Or do I stand back? Will it come naturally to me when I least expect it, or is it my job to find it? To try enough x amount of new things that I somehow manage to stumble upon where it was left?
I wish I knew the answer. No matter how hard it was, it would be easier to know what I’m doing. To know that the end is in sight, even if it’s not even close. To know that this was temporary, and not continuous. To know that if I fight for it, or if I wait for it, the creativity will stick and last for months or years, rather than just days or hours at a time.
On a side, very much so related note – today was the first time I got out a decent post, but it was free writing through the Write or Die site. The change of colors and promise of crazy sounds was enough to force me to write about my complaints about not being able to write, apparently.