Writers block

I am living a lifestyle that I never imagined I would be able to. So much of this is an absolute dream. I have learned so much through the experiences I have been gifted over the past few years. I have loved sharing the knowledge I have gathered over my journey through written word. But lately, my words have run dry.

I have always loved to write. I can still tap into the pure joy that I felt in elementary school when we got to “publish” our books in school. Part of me always knew I was meant to write but at some point I gathered the idea that I was not allowed to write. I wasn’t good enough, nobody would want to hear what I have to say, none of it is important enough to share, blah blah blah.

Fear. It drove me away from writing for so long. And then last year, by the grace of a few deeply spiritual experiences, I found the courage to release my voice into the world. It was incredibly healing for me to allow words to fall from inside me and land in a place where they could be witnessed. My little blog gifted me so much.

I wrote a lot while on my self proclaimed sabbatical. It was medicine for my mind body and soul. A medicine that I came to appreciate so much. And when that medicine soothed others, it became extra potent. It felt good to dump thoughts from my brain and let them roam in the world. It was a beautiful way for me to process so much of what I was moving through. But then 2025 rolled around and too many things shifted.

I returned to work, moved back to Colorado, unpacked my shit and rooted into community for the first time in over a year. It all felt so necessary even though it came with challenges. I kept writing but my tone was different. I shared less of it and kept more of it to myself.

Now as we approach the midway point of the year, which is wild to me, I am writing so much less. It doesn’t mean I’m not moving through anything. In fact, it is the exact opposite. I am moving though more than I can put into words. In many ways, it feels like all the processing I did in 2024 was simply dipping my toes into a vast lake that I dove headfirst into at the beginning of 2025.

I don’t think I’ve been able to come up for air yet. I’m still lost in the murky depths of this lake that is myself. This is not a bad thing, it just is. As necessary as it felt to share my experiences with the world in real time last year, I haven’t been able to find a way to continue to in 2025. This depth feels so incredibly different. It is scary for me to show this unexplored part of me out loud.

I am meeting new parts of myself and slowly bringing them to the surface of my awareness. How am I supposed to introduce these parts to the world when I have yet to get to know them myself?! The fear of writing has returned with vengeance and I am not sure what to do except keep swimming and let go of expectations. Just because writing was medicine for me last year, doesn’t mean it is the only medicine available to me now.

Rather than writing, I have been speaking. I have been holding space, for myself and those around me. I have been creating connection and community in big and little ways everywhere I go. This has been my medicine lately. I’m conflicted because I deeply miss sharing my life in real time, messy and vulnerably, in this form. Yet, words seem too rigid at times for what I am moving through. I need more flexibility because my truth is shifting so rapidly. Words seem too permanent for what I’m processing.

I have found that speaking my truth feels more fluid and natural these days. And I could not be more grateful to have cultivated a community around me that is willing to listen. There is catharsis that comes from expressing yourself freely. Whether that is writing, speaking, moving or creating art. But there is an entirely different world that opens up when you allow yourself to receive rather than simply express. Being able to sit in the safety of others and allow myself to be mirrored back to me, has been altering.

When I can’t find words, others may have them for me. This is the gift of processing through connection in real time. It is so easy for me to spin in circles in my own mind, going nowhere fast. Sometimes all it takes is one sentence from another person to pull me out of the spiral. In ways, it feels as if I am not fully proficient in swimming at these depths alone yet. The best thing for my well being is to keep others close. To allow my people to swim along side me during this time.

I am savoring in the fact that I have enough support to feel safe in these mysterious depths. I will do my best to release attachment to the idea that writing is my only form of medicine. I hope my words return to me with more clarity when the time is right. But for now, I will continue to use my voice in another way. I will stay present in my physical reality, with the people who I can quite literally hold onto. In time, I know I will build strength and courage, that will allow me to express so much more in written form.

There is irony in writing about writers block but here I am. Helping myself move through a tiny bit of it by exploring what comes to the surface when I sit here in silence. I have a feeling that a lot will pour out of me soon but for now, this is all I have to share.