"Are you still writing?"

A 4am reminder of when I need to be writing the most

Concerned reader: “Are you still writing?”
Me: “I have not been writing. I was having a pretty rough time earlier this year and I simply ran out of energy to write (amongst many other things.) It was deeply disconcerting because my writing is one of the ways in which I process experiences, so to just not have it in me . . . well, it hasn’t felt great, yet I have had no choice but to honor it.”

Writing takes energy. It requires energy for me to craft my words and ideas in such a way that I feel comfortable putting it into your inbox and online, where it will live forever in some shape or form. It takes energy for me, an introvert, to share my personal moments and perspectives.

Every ounce of energy I put into my writing is absolutely worth it!

However . . . early this year, still contending with injuries, surgeries, and so much more, I ran out of energy to write. I knew it was the right decision when it felt like a huge relief to pause.

I took my limited reserves and spent this year trying to regroup and rebuild my physical body, mental resilience, and overall outlook. I shifted from looking for answers outside of myself to turning my focus toward trusting myself more. I engaged more with the process of trying many possibilities to learn what was helpful and what wasn’t. I enlisted people that supported me and I took ownership of my own experience. I did my best to care for myself with compassion and understanding.

Amidst the challenges, there were so many instances of joy, laughter, friendship, understanding, support, and love, which I am sure I did not take for granted! I am very grateful.

You have not heard from me in a while but my writing has never been far from my thoughts. I’ve crafted countless paragraphs in my mind. The ideas have ebbed and flowed. Inspiration did not leave me. I even managed to eke out a few Fitness Corner columns including this one, which I continue to live by:

Still, it’s taken extensive effort and a month or so to create what you are reading right now. Most importantly, here it is.

I wish I could report that I’m back to full capacity, raring to go with my writing weekly, ready to get back to my old life, and very excited about it.

Unfortunately, this is not my current reality. I’m still working on accepting that aspects of my physical self will never be the same and are undeniably diminished. Aspects of my mental self are a work in progress to regain equilibrium. Aspects of my writing self remain a challenge. Discomfort is my new companion.

It has been quite the year.

Awake at 4am a few Sundays ago, I found myself reading a wonderful book review in The Wall Street Journal.

Will Leitch

reviews My Home Team by Dave Kindred, who writes about, among other things, the heartbreaking loss of his beloved wife of 59 years. The last paragraph of this review is:

“Mr. Kindred, like any great sportswriter, writes because he has to. He writes to survive. He writes to make it all make sense—even when it doesn’t. Especially when it doesn’t.”

I had to sit there for a bit with that one.

I’m clearly not a great sportswriter, but I know a little bit about writing to survive. I know a lot about writing to make it all make sense.

And I especially know when it doesn’t, and maybe never will make sense. Which, of course, is when I need to be writing the most.

---