Gone Fishin’

My muse is out of the office.

She doesn’t work on demand.

She doesn’t care about deadlines or that I’ve made a commitment to posting here every week.

I’ve just come back from a walk in the woods on a lovely autumn day and was unable to hear the voice of my soul. Usually I get some directions while I’m out in nature.

Not today.

The parts inside were just too loud; all the inner crew has something to say. I have a firm policy that all voices are heard. It’s a part of my morning practice to sit and listen, and normally after this (internal) Town Hall Meeting, I arrive at a place of serenity.

Not today.

The judge, the critic, the worrier and the warrior, the brat, the accountant, the analyst, the hero, the victim, the misanthrope, the ninja, rebel, doomsday proclaimer, the soothsayer, the cheerleader, escapist, diva, procrastinator, perfectionist, drama queen, monk, guru, hypochondriac, the good girl, the mean girl, Pollyanna. They were all present for roll call.

It was a full house.

Then they formed subcommittees- the judge, accountant and analyst all had opinions about the budget. The misanthrope, victim and drama queen chimed in about a recent unpleasant experience. The cheerleader, good girl and Pollyanna tried to shift the mood. When they join together like this, the conversation can really get loud and intense. Grandstanding is common.

It’s not easy having such a full house of archetypal energies activated when you’ve decided not to suppress any of them.

Rather than trying to fake it or force it, I’ve decided to come clean. I’m not feeling it (writing) this week. What is usually a fun project feels like a chore. So I’ma call it a day and get busy alchemizing the whirlwind of energies brewing in me.

It could be the grief I’m feeling at the state of the world, the wars, the election, hurricane destruction with another one coming.

It could be that I’ve lost touch with my “why”. In this moment, I can’t recall why I thought it was a good idea to commit to publishing every week.

It could be that I’m in a phase of contraction that always follows expansion. It’s easy to forget about flow when you’re in ebb.

Or the season, which is about wrapping up projects before winter descends.

Or maybe just that I have the kids’ song, The Wheels on the Bus, stuck in my head for the third day. 😬

I imagine that this will all sort itself out over the next few days and I’ll be back next week with something meaningful to say.

Or not. I don’t make the rules.