For some months this year, I had problems writing. Not like I was suddenly confused with tenses and was calling her him or they’re their, nothing like that. I just found it incredibly difficult to set time apart and hit you up like i’m doing now. Work has been hectic, adjusting to family man life is still work in progress, but I wont put the blame on excuses. I think something deeper has been at play.
Writers call something ‘writers block’; it’s supposed to be this understandable period of time when your ‘muse’ goes silent and you have little or no inspiration or spark to write something worthwhile. You feel some internal resistance and putting words together feels harder than lifting cement. You give up and watch Game of Thrones then call it a day.
It exists in all fields under different names. At work, you suddenly struggle to do something you could glide through. At school, reading a page feels harder than writing an exam. It all feels like a drudge and becomes quite frustrating. Your ‘A Game’ seems to have taken a sabbatical and the driven you is suddenly suspended in a zero-gravity space.
It’s even worse when the thing you’re feeling slow with actually impacts or edifies people. When I write and circle though dramatic plots littered with comic reliefs and what nots, it’s all a ploy to inspire you, to get you asking yourself hard questions and provoke you to ask more of you life. I love to talk about weighty things on a light note, and a mission like that requires a fortitude to shock your muse back to sobriety when it starts fooling. I suck at that, but working on it harder than a government keen to finish some key projects ahead of an imminent election. In fact, it’s in trying to work on it that my headlights fell on this thing in the road of productivity…I call it Rubbish voices!
You know how it’s easy to take water for granted? like you just grab a drink whenever and it doesn’t seem like a big deal, meanwhile it’s 60% of your body. Like if your body decided to vote on what to become of you, the decision of the water in your body is more than majority of all votes available. I wonder if you’ve paused to consider how critical your mind is to who you are, what you’re capable of and what will come of you. Your mind is your seat of government, that’s why treating it like an office reception is so dangerous. It’s where you decide whether you can win or not. It’s where hope is killed. It’s where all the action takes place.
So when you start feeling slow, start wondering if you still have it in you to chase that goal, start struggling to bring your ‘A Game’, may I suggest you put a microphone to your mind and listen to the conversation going on there? I promise you will discover so much rubbish! It’s like turning the light on in a boys dormitory that had seconds ago been screaming “WEE WONT DO IT, WEE WONT DO IT!” Suddenly, the puny ‘form 1’ boys realise that you, their house captain, are looking intently, with your belt in hand.
The voices in your head saying ‘I am tired, I cant do this anymore, I don’t feel like writing, It is too good to hope for, I cant become that, I’ll accept what I get, I’ll wait it out till this ‘writers block’ passes, I’m not that good…’ are those yours? or they’re the words of something that has nothing to gain by you becoming all you’re destined to become? Are you gradually believing things that will become the restraints that keep you from asking more of yourself? Is it God speaking? Or you speaking? or mediocrity speaking?
You see, rubbish doesn’t have to be this obscene pile or rotting waste, it could even be a seemingly harmless thought, a disinfected gyimii, a sanitised nkwasiasem, a polished lie. The more innocuous they are, the more dangerous they can be and the more wary you should be of them. I’m writing you now because I’ve realised that when your inspiration and energy comes from God, there is no such thing as a muse. There is just you believing a lie and settling for a sub optimal you.
Imagine oo, you were there waiting to see something better from Goldinwords and there I was waiting on a muse! Ah! Hmm, I’m shy for myself po. But perhaps, it was all worth it so that I could be able to share this with you so that if there is any area of your life that you’re settling for less in, that you’d put a microscope and a microphone to your thoughts and investigate WHOSE VOICE IS IT IN YOUR HEAD PRETENDING TO BE YOURS?
Your economy is heavenly. It is in Him you live and breathe and have have your being. You are seated in heavenly places! And as I have successfully woken from my writing slumber I’m aiming to wake from my calorie slumber. As for that one dier, my bredas and sisters…hepp me. lol. I’ve missed you and I’m so glad to be in on this with you. #NoStoppingUs #WeDoosThis #OnToTheNext #EkraaWeWillTryAgain.
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