I'm curious: As a writer, in whatever capacity (one who journals, an author of a book, a lyricist, a poet, a journalist, a blogger and more) has it been easier or more difficult for your creativity and capacity to write during this season of COVID-19?
I assume it depends upon the circumstances under which you are writing. Perhaps if you're a journalist, there is more content than you can actually manage. Perhaps if you're an author working on a book, it is more difficult to get your creative juices flowing amidst so much turmoil in our country and world. Everyone's circumstances and lens will vary, of course.
For me personally, I find myself particularly avoiding regular blogging, journaling, writing, penning a poem or working on my book.
For years now, I've been saying, "I have a book in me." However, it takes a lot of push and pull to get me to put type into words. It's not to say that I have not had unexpected, inspirational moments during this pandemic, I certainly have, and it's ironically been during this time of crisis that I have been able to draft a beginning to my book.
Unfortunately, I often find myself frozen, stuck... not just mentally blocked, but physically "glued" to one spot in my home... sitting on the white couch, looking West through my window framed with fuchsia Crepe Myrtle, the Old Natchez hills in the backdrop and my Chocolate Lab, stretched long, napping and snoring next to me.
Sometimes, I'm most inspired when I write on Instagram. Perhaps my desire for approval inches me to that forum. Perhaps, I find inspiration there. Whatever the reason, my IG posts can often become my blog entries... rarely vice-versa. At the end of the day, what brings me pleasure is that I have actually written, been inspired enough to say something and taken the time to put it on paper. Taking the opportunity for self-expression is sometimes the most difficult hurdle to cross... is it the vulnerability? yes and no.
With that said, I know that one of my writing roadblocks is high anxiety disorder... anxiety over the state of affairs in our country... its dire need for health and healing in such a myriad of ways... physically, racially, politically, environmentally, culturally and more.
Alongside years of anxiety, dwells decades of depression. I've learned how to care for myself over the years. It took me a very long time to accept or name either of them as an illness. I have struggled. I have taken cover and comfort in the arms of Jesus. I have experienced miraculous relief through medication, talk therapy and self-care. I have also had my fair share of guilt and feelings of shame over having to take medication. For the many times that I have tried to go unmedicated, I have realized that, in the end, my body needs it, and that is more than okay.
However, with COVID, political unrest, racial inequality and injustice, senseless killings of black people by police, systemic racism, life in a masked world... my anxiety and depression have skyrocketed beyond my ability to self-care, use my coping tools... it has even surpassed the strength of my medication. Knowing this about myself and having experienced it, I am certain that many have met anxiety and/or depression for the first time in their lives. They are not a death sentence, but they are to be dealt through the extension of tremendous grace and with the help of professionals.
Learning how to live in this new world is what has caused me so much anxiety. I'm not afraid to get sick. I know what to do. What is so disruptive for me is that I don't recognize my world, my environment. Everyone is masked... rightly so, but it is strange, disconcerting. Every action requires new thought patterns. There are only small bits of normal around. This is hard for me.
I don't know how to live in a #TBD world (To Be Determined). My dear friend, Laura, and I recently discussed, at length, this idea of trying to live in a world of complete uncertainty.
Since our conversation, many times I have introduced the #TBD world idea to others who also identified with the mentality. Yesterday, though, I listened to an Instagram TV post from writer, Elizabeth Gilbert (author of Eat, Pray, Love and many more).
Elizabeth told of a personal encounter with a brilliantly blue hummingbird that unexpectedly flew into her home, darted about at break-neck speed through every room while Elizabeth raised every window as fast as she could so the tiny wonderling would not be hurt. In the end, the sprite of a bird exited the same way that she came in... and was gone in a flash.
Find her profile on Instagram @elizabeth_gilbert_writer, watch and listen to her tell the story as only an author could. Soak up her insight on life right now and how to live.
My takeaway from her was this: consider waking up every morning expecting an unexpected moment of joy in your day... even better, you don't have to remember to consciously awaken in this frame of mind. However, you do have to give yourself permission to find and identify these hidden gems of joy in your day when they arise. Discover the sunlight shining through the cracks. Light outshines the darkness. The highlights are there no matter how big, no matter how small...whether they be slight of hand or slow as molasses... tiny and turquoise and fast as lightning.
The expectation and identification of joy in my day, no matter how surprising or difficult to recognize, will be the breakthrough for my TBD days to come. I can rise up knowing things are to be determined; a day is no longer "normal"; things are not as they used to be; they are awkward and uncomfortable... but joy exists...still. So, I shall transform my TBD to JBD, "Joy Be Discovered" (JBD).
Amidst lives falling apart, danger lurking around every corner, violence and death threatening each movement of our black brothers and sisters (#BLM #BlackLivesMatter), peaceful protests turned into fires and shootings, COVID striking everywhere, acts of nature like Hurricane Laura...amidst of all this and more, we cannot allow Fear to be our Friend. Fear is not a friend. It is a monger of joy, a thief in the night.
Yet, here we are, those of us still living in survival mode, scarred, scared, broken, fearful, hopeful, resilient... While our vessels may carry uncommon belongings weighted down and over capacity, our beings are not so far apart. Each of us, all of us...no matter our color or worldview...each of us is human. We are human beings who belong to a kind, and a kind implies kindness which requires effort, intentionality, respect and equality.
Today is a new beginning as will be tomorrow and the day after. I will take one day at a time. I will give myself and others grace. I will love. I will be kind. I will cry on the floor of my closet if I need to. You can cry with me. We are not alone if we stand together. Stand with me in love. Stand with me in kindness. Stand with me in pain. Stand with me in healing. Joy comes in the morning and His mercies never come to an end
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