Cos Breaking Up Is Hard to do...

Cos Breaking Up Is Hard to do...

A few people have been asking me of late...

“What are writing at the moment?”

I’ve found it hard to answer, because sometimes the truth is hard.

We broke up.

The great love of my life- Writing- and I broke up at the end of last year.

After some challenging processes, the exhausting juggling of life as a working single parent, and a series of events creating insurmountable self-doubt - I needed to walk away.

My confidence was shot.

I was tired of fighting - and for what? I wasn’t even sure anymore.

The doorways of creativity that had lived so vibrantly in my head always and ever, since I was a little girl, seemed to slam shut. Inaccessible. Like a petulant teenager shouting “go away” from her poster-clad bedroom.

And so I did. Not sure if or when I would ever come back.

And weirdly I have not missed it. I have not missed my coffee and biscuits diving into bottomless hours of imagination and creation, disappearing into the abyss of story.

After a massive couple of months, some big personal transitions, an intense week with my teacher Maty in town (a good teacher is guaranteed to shake you up in the best way possible like a little snow globe) - I got sick. I was forced to STOP. And I spent most of today child-free, quiet, in stillness, at home.

And in the stillness, in the quiet...the little doorways started to whisper.

And I felt the familiar pull for the first time- in a long time -to have a voice.

And these are the seasons. The seasons of creativity and life. Creation, preservation, destruction. And we’re always doing the dance somewhere in these three realms. We have to honour them. We must fight for what we believe in, yes. But also know when it’s time to put our weapons down and rest.

Because otherwise we are just shadowboxing our lives away.

It’s ok to lose your confidence.

It’s ok to feel like you’re on shaky ground.

It’s ok to stop fighting for a moment.

In the giving up, in the vulnerability, in the humility, in the completely letting go- we get access to something else. Something vaster than we ever imagined.

This year, amidst the break up, I have settled G into kindergarten, deepened my teaching, got my yoga practice back, formed new relationships and friendships, and loved so fully in a way I haven’t been able to for years.

And so now- I gently knock on the her door. And with all the love I can muster, I whisper - “there’s no rush, my love. But I’m here- when you’re ready to come out. I’m here”.

I’m here. And I’m ready.

Ready to fall in love again.

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