As a writer, I have rituals and habits that I hold sacred. I have not honored some of these during this time. I have reached an uncomfortable level of anxiety. In an attempt to get back on track, I planned my day today setting aside a solid block of time for writing this evening. In anticipation, I felt the rumbling of inspiration throughout the day. I was so intent on holding on to the spurs of creativity that I blocked out everything else. In trying to hold on so tightly to the inspiration, I missed out on a beautiful day. I had an early meeting in a historic building by the ocean. I then had lunch with two of my favorite people to collaborate with. Then I had an opportunity to wrap up a report ahead of schedule in an unprecedented undisturbed afternoon. I didn't enjoy any of it. I was so bent on writing, that I was not going to let any thoughts "pollute" my mind. I disconnected. I did the wrong thing.
My dedicated creative writing block of time is coming up. What I don't have anymore is any of that inspiration that called on my earlier today. Had I released my hold, the rest of the day would have nurtured and fed my senses–the vibrant ocean-meets-sky view, the smell of the sea, the wine and laughter at lunch, the miraculous finishing of work that would have occupied my mind. I held on to a fixed idea, avoided eye contact and any meaningful conversation and failed to see the gifts of inspiration all around me. I forgot to be thankful, to smile and to share myself with the day and those in it. Life was whispering Come with me. I didn't listen.
Tonight, I'm releasing. I'm letting go of my expectations. I'm letting life be the stuff of my writing. I'm letting my experience be as it is. I am thankful for what comes. I'm paying attention to the offerings of the Universe. I will go with the flow. Tonight I listen. I trust. I create. Join me.
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