It's been almost 5 months since I donated a kidney. Almost 2 weeks since my final dose of Lexapro. Almost 2 years since my last book was published. And more time than I can remember since I've felt creativity wanting, or rather needing in my case, to take a front seat.
Even writing here isn't the walk in the park it had been for so long. Writing my kidney journey had purpose, meaning, a chronology—events to summarize and feelings to explore. Before that, it had been FLOW, and before that, fears of being a writer, or finding out I was just playing one on TV. I was almost never at a loss of what to say and every day, for almost two and a half years, I wrote here.
It's not that I'm empty. Maybe I'm not as willing to share as I'd been in the past. Maybe, for me, it's an event that spurs the exploration and baring of my soul in writing. Maybe it's because right now life is about everyone else and while there's plenty of stress and angst and unknowns, they're not really mine. I'm just herding others along their own burgeoning paths.
But, I want a path of mine own. Again. I know it's there. I'm just not sure which direction it will go in. I've never had a linear one. No clear direction, no clean cut next steps. I'm at a loss as to what to even think about doing next.
I started The Artist's Way this week - a 12 week book/course/set of exercises about discovering creativity. I'd done the program once before. 15 years ago. I did morning pages (writing 3 pages long hand as soon as you wake up in the morning) for more than 2 years. It was amazing, as I cracked open my new copy last Sunday night, at how much I've accomplished since then. I last read it before I'd written a book, before I had kids, as I was just beginning to be a designer. I was someone else back then. Scared. Timid. Fearful. Terrified I'd never amount to anything. That I'd never make an impact. That I'd never make things happen.
Years later, I have. I know how. I've created far more than I'd ever dreamed of. Had experiences that back then I never would have even contemplated.
I know how to get things done. Make things happen. Put ideas and projects out into the world.
But for me it's not ever about what I've done. Or what I'm going to do.
It's about what I'm doing. Now.
And I think I'm finally ready to start figuring that out.