It's a Burden

Do you realize that I have been at this blogging thing for almost 2 1/2 years?  Two and one half years.  That's insane.  It's crazy.  It's scary, what with my little issue with consistency and all.  But here I sit, almost two and one half years after the first tentative steps into the blogging world, still trying to come up with something to say.



Some days I am full of ideas.  Full to the point that a few fall out and get kicked into a dark corner.  Sometimes they turn up later, mixed with the dust bunnies that gather when no one's paying attention.  Sometimes they are lost forever.   During these times I feast on the manna.  I write sticky notes laden with one word nuggets to jump start my brain or make lists to be checked off later.  Sometimes I kick into overdrive and write all day in a feverish fit of creativity lining the posts up for days in advance.

And then there are the other times.  The times when I sit and stare out of the window for hours, surf the net, walk the dog, bake a pie, do something, anything that might spark a thought, an idea, a start.  But the well remains dry.  There is nothing but shifting sand moving back and forth in my head creating a thick cloud of dust that I fear may never settle.  This can last for days.

It is during these times that I wish I had never started this nonsense.  Wish I had been content to simply soak in the offerings of other, more talented folks.  But no, I had to jump into the pool fully clothed, shoes and all.  I have a fear of heights, yet I cart-wheeled off the high dive last spring when I decided to make this a daily thing.  What on earth was I thinking?  Post something every single day.  Someone shoot me please before I drown.

Currently there is a dust storm of major proportions in the desert of my mind.  Henna remains quiet, Buck hasn't visited for days, the trash run has been uneventful for weeks, The Kid is on his best behaviour, the weather has been warm and sunny, the geese are gone along with the gun shots, and the grand kids haven't been here for a month.  And yet, here I am.  Back again on a day when the well is dry.  When the sticky notes are gone and the lists are all crossed off.  When I am so desperate for something to write that I write about desperation.

It's a burden I tell you.  If I'm not crushed under the weight of it, I'll see you tomorrow.