According to Wikipedia…
“Writer’s block is a condition, primarily associated with writing as a profession, in which an author loses the ability to produce new work. The condition varies widely in intensity. It can be trivial, a temporary difficulty in dealing with the task at hand. At the other extreme, some “blocked” writers have been unable to work for years on end, and some have even abandoned their careers. It can manifest as the affected writer viewing their work as inferior or unsuitable, when in fact it could be the opposite.”
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I am not a writer, but I can usually come up with a blog when I want to. For the past year, I’ve been trying to write but I couldn’t. I’ll start typing and I’ll end up erasing the it. Looking back on that time what I was trying to write was about my father’s death and what I have learned and discovered about him during his wake. Rediscovering and being reintroduced to my father who then has passed and talking about it is much more difficult than I thought it would be.
Showing vulnerability in my blog scared me. I was afraid to admit that I may have not loved my father the way he did to me and I was so scared to admit he loved me and I took it for granted.
Some months after my father’s death I saw an old beggar being escorted by a waiter to one of their tables so he could eat the food given to him as alms by a passerby. I was affronted by what I saw because I was asking myself had my father been alive would he have ended like that, would I have let that happen because I refused to care. It again reminded me that I was not the son I am supposed to be. I was so affected by this that I wanted to have a session with PilgrimJaunt but then again I decided not to because I embarrassed.
Last night, I was asked by one of my church friends to write a summary of this Sunday’s talk and I hesitated. How am I supposed to write about God if I can barely update my blog even if I had time. I felt blocked because I don’t think I have fully forgiven myself, maybe I am not spiritually ready. I said before going home last night. Maybe it’s about time that I write from the heart and not be scared. Maybe God has called me to forgive myself and write about moving mountains. Maybe I was blocked so that when I come back to blogging it’s about a positive thought and to be an instrument of inspiration and blessing from the ever faithful, loving and forgiving Lord…
carpe diem... ü
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