It’s been about two weeks since I have really put pen to paper, or blogged. I wondered about this and caught myself doing the familiar shaming. My critic was quickly ready to interject with a string of scoldings. But the truth is, sometimes I don’t want to say anything. I don’t want to write, to speak, to communicate anything in depth.
I feel guiltand shame about this. The voice says, “a writer should write, whether they feel like it or not”. At least that is what I’ve always told myself. “If you are not writing you are not a writer. Butt in Chair, always.”
But sometimes, one must retract into solitude. Sometimes one has little to say because we are busy processing, percolating, being, and doing. Sometimes, we feel as if we have said too much and it is time to listen. Sometimes we may even get tired of what we have to say, because we find ourselves saying the same story in different ways.
Whatever the reason, this time of retracting into solitude, into a space of not expressing ourselves with the written word, does not have to become a state of loneliness. This solitude can be a sacred act of being with oneself. And perhaps retracting is too strong of a word because it implies that one has drawn back out of fear or some negative reason.
Perhaps drawing into oneself, cocooning in way that symbolizes preparation and growth rings better to the soul. Perhaps using the solitude to listen to the voice of God, truth and one’s highest self can be a beautiful thing, if we can stand it long enough…without shame and guilt rearing their ugly heads.