I’m not sure what to write about. I’ve been telling myself that I’m going to share everyday, but that really does require that I keep writing.

So here I am, greasing the gears to keep the thoughts and words flowing. I’m not sure what will come through, and yet as I write this right now, I’m realizing that this is what’s coming through. As if what was coming through in the moment was not good enough, my mind is wandering, searching for something that is worthy to be written, worthy to be shared with the world. And is it not in the devaluing of my current state of being, the thoughts and feelings and energies that are coursing through my mind and body, as not worthy enough, that I simply push myself deeper into the block, damming the hole which is the vessel for my art, but will only pour forth if I keep the contents flowing?

There will be times when there is more swirling, and times when the spout is dry, and perhaps, it may even make sense to turn the faucet off every once in awhile for a little maintenance. But I think having the discretion to know when one is burnt out and dry, vs. when one is all dammed up and ready to burst forth, is the fine art of living, of which I’ll forever be a student.