Change, for all its good and bad connotations, is part of life. Good change can produce as much stress as bad change. Psychologists have known this for some time. In the flux of change, we become…not what we once were, but who we will be tomorrow.
This isn’t writer’s block. This is exhaustion and a bad routine. It’s just harder and not as good (in my eyes, at least). The introspective quality is missing. Oh, it sounds fine. It’s just brisk and more businesslike than the writing that flowers from my soul. If this is to be my new voice, my current style, I’ll adapt. The introspection is there somewhere.
The well, once deep, is becoming accustomed to constant use. This is no one’s fault.
It is not fault, but necessity. I am moving into a world in which much more is demanded of both talent and discipline. The circumstances are such that I must labor beyond my natural capacity until my capacity expands to encompass my new duties. One must become strong enough to bear the weight of responsibility if one is to carry it any great distance.
This is good for me. In its own way, it is affirming. I can do what I must. Growth and change are often painful. These, then, are merely growing pains that will ease in time. The writer on the other side will be stronger, expanded, and more responsive.
Edison said he didn’t fail many times in his attempt to create the light bulb. He simply discovered many ways that did not work. It is similar to finding a schedule that fits my rhythm. For four days I tried a routine that did not work. I am now free to find a new routine, putting them on and off like new clothes in the dressing room. I’ll find the right fit, style, and color. When I do, productivity will jump, the strain will ease, and I’ll move forward.
All of this growth and change is often confusing, exhausting, and painful. Bound together with the threads of hope and excitement, my skills slowly expand to fit the tasks I ask of them. Talent deepens to accommodate the draft of requirement. The bigger the requirement, the deeper the draft of this particular vessel. I am becoming someone other than the women I have been. This is natural and pregnant with possibility.
The best thing to do right now is focus (at least partly) on something else…a friend, the Day Job, even recent losses. In the focusing elsewhere, my hands will loosen their white-knuckled grip on Today’s Me. I will move out of the way of Tomorrow’s Me and let her come forth.
In becoming, we also shed bits of ourselves and leave them behind. Underneath the weariness and pushing strain lies excitement and anticipation. I am becoming! I am becoming.