I have just found myself with a blank mind.
No, my meditation has not enabled me to achieve enlightenment and Nirvana, and transcend the samsara.
This is just garden variety writer's block. I went blank while ruminating over what the topic of this post should be. And it was scary and paralyzing. Just for a second.
Then in a fit of optimism I decided to write about the block itself. The feeling of scary and paralyzing. The sinking feeling that I have nothing to say, and no one to say it to. (Thank you, Natalie Goldberg, for
This is something I have felt transcend my writing life, and infect my relationships and how I interact with others. (I have stopped running with scissors, but I still do not play well with others.)
This feeling has caused me to accept less, interact less, catastrophize more, and basically give up for long periods of time. It has stunted my emotional and mental growth, and it has wreaked freaking havoc with what could have been a career as a writer. I am still bitter about that.
So I will ride the wave. It may make for less than stimulating reading but it will get me through. And it will be good practice. For life.
Depression and Bipolar Support Alliance