The last several weeks have been a frenzy of activity. I had plenty to write, but nothing to share. I equate it to a well full of water that you can’t tap. Every day I write. Then I write some more. Just when I think I am done, I write another page. Unfortunately, the stuff I was writing was too close to the heart, too dear to share with the world. Until now.
What is the reason for my writer’s block? I am faced with being alone for the first time in 10 years. I may have chosen this path, but not lightly. Hundreds of hours were dedicated to contemplating this particular decision. Then one day, I woke up and the decision was made. Was it that last cup of coffee I drank that made the difference? Or my meditation by the pool? I can’t be sure how or why these things happen, but I feel relief to have an actual decision.
Decisions are not easy for me. I am constantly balancing like a tight-rope walker. I want everyone else happy, so often I am left in the lurch, and left unhappy. At times it is the right approach, but sometimes the weight of one’s personal unhappiness outweighs everyone else’s happiness. The saying about the straw that broke the camel’s back is true. My back (and my heart) were broken and there was no stopping the sudden crash to the ground. I couldn’t pick myself back up because I hadn’t the means. It was over. Decision made.
What was the final straw for my decision to end a relationship that wasn’t working? Hope. I had completely lost hope that I could be happy in the relationship. Sad, yet true. I needed to find hope so I could get out of bed each day because each day that passed (before the straw landed on my back) my hope waned. When you lose hope, you lose the will to live. To regain hope I had to make a change. Since I couldn’t change other people, I had to change my circumstances. To have hope, I needed my freedom.
I now stand on a mountain of hope. All around me is the opportunity for a happy today and a happier tomorrow. I can be sad about yesterday, but what is the point? I can only control today. Some people have told me “the grass is not always greener”, which may be true. My question is, what do you do when your grass is completely dead? Some things can be fixed and some can’t. Once you realize they can’t be fixed (like some aspects of my 11-year-old car) it is time to let go and move ahead. I feel relief that my hope and my writing well are full again. Blue skies and green grass are ahead, or at least I hope so.