Writers Block

For the past four years I have had a serious case of writers block. Writing isn't the same as it used to be. I think I need it though. Like I desperately need to organize and document my thoughts with the hope of making sense of my past and present. One of my childhood friends has recently begun dating a girl whose father recently passed. She has been using blogging as a way to share the deep grief that accosts her on the freeways, in malls, and in the closets of her house as she learns what holding the loss of her father feels like. I think that it is heavy and scarring. It can and should be no other way. But I'll save my exploration into a theology of pain and grief for another day. Well except to say that a few months ago I found myself at the Blue Dog Coffee House with a friend from grad school. Therapy and life have kind of left him a mess recently, and understandably so. Life just kind of wrecks. But we were talking about pain and how he just couldn't wait for the day when he didn't have to feel the burdens he's been feeling as of late. I mentioned that I don't think grief ever goes way. You just learn to hold it differently and that's good. I mean, I kind of feel like Scripture talks about being able to grieve and feel joy, not just the later.

I have begun to realize that my inability to write is near to my inability to grieve. I have a difficult time articulating my sadness. Even in an environment which is bent on evoking it in me.