The impossible has happened. I have nothing to say. My husband is worried (and I’m sure, slightly happy). “Why aren’t you writing anymore?” he asked me this morning over coffee. I held my head in my hands, smiled and sighed, “I don’t know.”
My mind is completely blank. Empty. I have not one single idea to write about. Actually, I have several ideas. They are all very fascinating. They bounce around off each other and want to be let out. I just can’t come up with the words to type out a complete sentence. I contemplated writing an entire blog post with just one word.
One day: “Amazement” The next day: “Joy” (That’s all I got for today, sorry!)
For a brief moment, I thought maybe a post about meditation with just a blank page, no words at all. I think that would be very effective.
What is wrong with me? Is this writer’s block? Or has summertime’s lazy timeless grip gotten a hold of me? My kids are home. For the first time in years we have absolutely nothing scheduled; no baseball practice, track meets, dance classes. No big trips on the horizon (the benefit of being poor and convincing yourself a “staycation” is the way to go). Every day slowly slides by; each full of giggling kids splashing in the pool, bees buzzing by the vegetable garden and the melting of popsicles. This slowing down has relaxed my busy mind. As my son would say, I’ve taken “a chill pill.” For the first time in a long time.
I think I’ll stay that way for awhle. A wordless summer, just what I need. I am getting more comfortable with not having any urge to write about anything. Maybe by this fall, I can write about something other than not being able to write.
In the meantime, Happy Lazy Hazy Crazy Summer Days to you all.