Cast Iron Doors

The lights are dim and the world is sleeping.

The little feet are resting and electronics are on standby .....do you hear that?

The soft silence, the peace, the quite.

My muscles soften, heart steadies and mind calms.

Irreplaceable, valuable stillness of my little world.

 

Its astonishing the revelations one stumbles upon in this state of blissful rest, which gracefully slides into reflection. It's as if my brain is now still turning the cogs of my most current enigma but with ease, in the unacknowledged pocket that is my subconscious.

Then it appears to me, like a spotlight switched on in a dark room, showing nothing but the answer to my torments. Just sitting there, where it has been all along completely unnoticed. It is the cast iron door that has been the cause of this writers block. It's all so clear now, I have the answer.

 

 ....I'm happy...

 Isn't that odd? That an emotion so pure and full of delight could ever have a negative effect on anything.

 

The truth is, most of the time I write to tell a story or portray an emotion. Usually these two things are influenced by some kind of dramatic event (big or small) that has fuelled a passionate response. So with no negativity, no drama, no struggle I have nothing to write about.

I am completely and utterly infatuated with life.

All my brain is filled with on a daily basis is flowers, love and sunshine. Who wants to read about that? Or at least write about it (although I might now).

I feel like I am under a permanent ray of sunshine (how cheesy) all aspects of my life are still. Elegantly drifting along. 

 

So what else is then left to write about? Tantrums and meal time disputes? I think we can all agree there is enough written about that in the world. No one needs to hear that from me.  

As a result of my usual content dissipating, I find myself pulling apart pieces of my psyche because well, who can't find something wrong with the inner workings of their mind?

 

Finally, much welcomed solace. I can once again breath, knowing I have found what is eating away at my creativity.

Where exactly to go from here? I have no idea. But I can tell you it is utterly invigorating being able to admit to sheer bliss.