Write always and anyway…

What if I am supposed to just write anyway, to write even when I don’t feel like it? What if just doing it is part of the process, part of the growth, part of the becoming? Lately I my brain seems jumbled, like when you finish laundry and that pile of socks is left… and if you live in my house there are most likely missing, mismatched and stranger’s socks. If you can imagine my jumbled-up brain might be more jumbled than most… given the state of the socks in this house.

I miss when my brain was clearer, my writing came easier, my words would just flow. I would have a silly thought, or important point and BOOM my fingers took to the keyboard and the story my brain needed to tell just appeared on the screen. It has been a bit since my thoughts flew to my fingers and formed the story that my mind thought. I quite miss it… but maybe this is part of it. Who knows, maybe these times of jumbled and messy, will be part of the becoming I need to keep doing.

Today at school I took my break and kind of hid away and looked at Facebook. When it was time to be back to work a behavior escalated, I said “I’ll get it, my breaks pretty much done and I was just looking at Facebook”. I made a comment about having nothing better to do than looking at Facebook on break anyway, my friend asked why I didn’t read. I said I hadn’t brought a book in a while, and I thought to myself I should do that. We were then walking down to the far away wing to support the kiddo who needed it, and she said ‘or you could write’… and I was reminded that I don’t have it right now. I am too… jumbled or messy or something. Writing didn’t just come to me right now…

I thought about it a lot as the day progressed, I am sure she didn’t mean for it to be something I would reflect on for the day. I am sure she meant to give me quick reminders of things I like to do to get into my less jumbled space. It got me thinking though…

I spend too much time just looking at things, watching time go by. I of all people should know that time is expensive and I spending too much of it watching and not doing. I tried to look inside the jumbled mess that lives inside my brain, I didn’t get too far. I definitely saw that sock pile, it is just itching to get put away and sorted… even with the missing, mismatched and stranger’s socks. What if… I am supposed to stop looking and watching or telling myself I don’t know what to write and just do it… just write until I sort this sock pile.

I need to just trust the brain to finger to screen connection, and just do it. Sometimes I may only have a trip to the grocery store to write about- but maybe the task is the write it and share it, in my own way, so I can sort it all. I feel like writing will help get that jumbled brain back to healthy and not-so-messy, let’s be honest it won’t be sparkly and full of folded, color sorted laundry in neat piles, I know myself pretty well.

What if the becoming is less about the product and more about the process… and the vulnerability of sharing my mess? What if to find that semblance of organized starts when I do what I know how to do, even when I feel like I can’t? Damn, this is deeper than I meant it to be. I hate when that happens…

So I guess this is me, telling you all, that I am going to write it out and you can go though this seemingly endless sock pile sorting life journey with me. Come along on this experience from just being me, to becoming me…


PS In case I haven’t told you all lately thank you for the words and support and silent hugs when I get really vulnerable that I feel naked. I am honored and grateful you are all climbing up this polka dot tree with me ❤


2 thoughts on “Write always and anyway…

  1. I still feel eager to read any time I see a new blog post of yours. Your words and thoughts calm me. Sometimes they make me laugh, sometimes cry but no matter what, they make me feel. Sending you one of those silent hugs. Xo


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