I’ve not meant to be so sporadic about posting. Lots of yanking around the eyes and sleepless nights contribute to lack of brain power for writing. But I’m also realizing I’ve been in a time of gestation about writing and what I am or am not meant to do with it.
It’s part of an ongoing inner shift and debate I’ve been exploring for some years (including in previous posts). When I first started on this spiritual journey I was sure writing novels was my path. A great deal of my early work centered on removing blocks, rediscovering childhood creativity and generally trying to awaken my inner writer.
One novel and several novel attempts later I began to question whether fiction is even my genre. And when my guidance nudged me to blog, I wondered if this was my path. Eventually I came to treasure the community of friends I’ve made through blogging but to question whether my writing here serves any purpose as a life path.
And of course there’s the general questioning as I’ve released and transformed and shifted my way from neurotic, negative Nancy (my real first name) to level and lighter Leigh (my more-beloved middle name). I’ve let go of so much in the last 25 or so years, I’m sometimes not sure who I am and less sure of what I’m here to do.
Eventually, as the regular crowd here knows, I decided a big piece of my purpose is this long, convoluted journey of healing on every level. The yanking lately is showing me clearly the muscles in my face have just about finished unwinding (as always with the caveat these last pieces are the very tightest so slow going…) and a new chapter is dawning.
I’m still very unclear as to what the new chapter is or looks like but lately more and more signs and portents have been pointing a way. Next post I’ll explore this more, but let’s just say I’m sensing strongly that coming back to blogging about peace is the next direction. Or I’m heading back to an old direction? 🙂