Trust the process. I say that all the time, and I even believe it. But you know, well yeah. There are times, times when you mean to trust the process and it sounds all good, but then you forget. Sometimes you just forget there even is one. And you forget to trust it and you get all uneasy inside. Queasy even, because you have forgotten about the process and for some reason you think you are actually in control. That is not such a good idea, because living a life in a satisfying way involves a lot of details. A lot, and it’s really hard to keep up with all those details. Not and stay calm and at peace. At least that goes for me. The staying calm and at peace part. That’s when the queasiness begins, when I think I have to be in charge of everything. When that happens I just let things build up and build up until I can’t walk around easily and then I’m really stuck. I think that happens to other people too, to some degree. I mean, look at those TV shows about stuff hoarders. Those people with little trails through their houses until they can’t see what they have and a lot of it is stuff they have ordered from QVC and never even opened. When I see that I feel breathless. Like how can people live with all that stuff clogging their arteries? And then I remember that not one of my closets is clear and orderly. Not one. And I feel a little breathless. And I want to go to sleep. Cause I make my bed. Every day I make my bed. And that is the orderly spot when other things build up.
Hmmm…sometimes when you let yourself write whatever you need to write you sound a little crazy, you know? But you keep on writing and something eases a little. And then is when you know that you really need to write, far more often than you actually do and you know that if you return to doing it every single day maybe you’ll breathe more easily every day. As long as you continue to keep doing things too. Doing and writing and breathing. Like Steinbeck said, “I usually always write, just like I usually always breathe.” Doing and writing and breathing…every day.
Maybe blogging isn’t the place for now. Sometimes, even though part of you believes that publicly declaring your breathlessness is cathartic and leveling and a power building thing to do, you just don’t want to. And those times are part of the process, just as the letting it all out is part of it. It’s all part of the deal. Morning pages. Little black journals with pockets in the back. Computer programs like Journler. There are lots of ways of doing morning pages. You don’t even have to reread or keep them. It is the releasing of the words that matters. Every day. Breathing and writing and breathing. All of it.