Sometimes, I get stuck in the middle.

Between what I think something should be and what it is.

I’m under construction when I want to be finished.

Right now, I am stuck on what I want this blog to be.

Last week, I got excited by the idea of sharing audio.

I planned to experiment with recording something today.

I blocked it out on my calendar.

But it is not happening.

The internet is out.

It is hot.

I can’t focus in this loud cafe.

I have a lot of ideas, but I’m too scrambled to commit to one.

My desire to go with the flow is colliding messily with the reality that…it’s not flowing.

I feel frustrated. Annoyed. Disappointed.

Stewing in these emotions is not why I created this blog.

But being real and sharing my creative process is.

And right now, the realest thing I can say is that I am in it.

My new life here, this week in particular, has been a triumphant explosion of creativity.

I am learning a lot about myself and why I am here.

But right now, it’s not converting into something digested and polished.

It’s a lot of ingredients, spread out all over the counter.

It’s thirteen open tabs, still loading.

It’s 23 lines of text scraping for meaning.

It’s deciding I’m done, with no completion to rest in.

Setting down the pen, closing the laptop, sighing deeply, and moving on.

Trusting that soon, it will feel like flowing again.

But knowing that feeling isn’t on the other side of more grinding.

I’m just running from feeling like I’m failing,

not toward satisfaction.

I’m not bounding forward with the wind at my back and joy in my heart.

And so, with love, and respect for my stuck in the middle-ness,

I say ‘goodbye for now’ and let it be.

I often find myself 

bouncing from track to track,

never letting the train take me.

Hovering over the controls, 

unsure which knob to turn.

The choice I don’t realize I’m making 

is to stay above ground.

To avoid digging in 

and getting my hands dirty.

I want to be covered in mud.

But not here. And not like this.

Someday.

For now, I’ll keep carrying this shovel, 

in search of just the right spot,

wondering what it would feel like

to move Earth.

To give birth

to raw pursuit.

Who would I be on the other side?

What has to die

for Life to find its way through me?

There’s freedom in joining the tide.

You can rest your head

cuz your Soul 

is rooted.

Control is fruitless,

It steals your Juice-ness.

So close your eyes and take a bite. 

We’re here 

to be 

ALIVE.

Even writing this, I found myself caught between possibilities. Trying to imagine which word would land with an imaginary reader. Just up in my own head with ghosts. Truth is, I have NO IDEA. And no amount of grinding my gears will make me know. There are times when careful planning and minding the details are essential. But many more times, I’m driving myself crazy, pouring out energy, wrestling with the 2%, thinking it’s going to make or break the other 98. The pursuit of perfection leaves us burnt out and discouraged. Sometimes, we need a break. Sometimes, we need to let time offer perspective. Sometimes, we need to just decide it’s done and move on. But it’s easy to flail around in the frustration loop. It seems like complete satisfaction is just one forceful brain-rack out of reach. That’s exactly when it’s time to put it down, stand up, and be done. Maybe for now. Maybe for ever. I feel it right now as I type. I’m tired. My brain hurts. But the mystical Perfect Blog Post is just one sentence away! Nah.

I’ve bounced from low lows to high highs

so many times. 

So many trips up and down inside. 

Right now?

I’m dancing on air. 

The lightest I’ve ever been,

Always comes after the darkness.

I emerge,

I remember I can breathe again.

And actually, I’m better at it than I was before.

What felt like drowning, was learning to swim.

Retreating in, to find deeper wisdom, and resilience to weather the feelings. 

When I’m in it, everything hurts so bad I forget who I am.

It feels like I’ll be lost forever.

But,

I never am.

Something clicks and I’m climbing out somehow.

Just yesterday, I was upside down, convinced, 

“I’ll never get unstuck.” 

Then something struck.

A block dislodged, and suddenly

I’m in the eye of the storm 

and I can see the clear, blue sky above me. 

Hope. 

Fragile, but delicious.

A tiny sip of fresh air.

My heart opens and I start over.

Doubts come, and I’m easily knocked down by tall towers of who I think I should be. 

The smallness of feeling thousands of miles from my dreams. 

What is right in front of me never seems like enough. 

But that’s a lie.

Faith is hard to hold onto, in the face of so much fear,

so much conviction that it won’t matter.

That I don’t matter.

That my house of cards will fall

(and it will). 

But never building feels like death. 

So I use every, single, brick. 

A smile from a stranger. A moment of self-honesty. A salad because leaves taste like life.

One small “yes” to trusting myself. 

One small step.

Then another. 

Then another.

So if you look up and see a crack,

build toward the light.