Stuck

I feel compelled to search and discover.  The desire is overwhelming at times and it's been making it difficult to write recently.  Maybe that's part of what is so difficult about February; the longer I sit quietly within the wall containing the artificial heat the stronger the need to expand becomes.   Each day the longing to go somewhere different, to go outside and lay in the soft grass breathing in the warm air, listen to quiet songs while you drive to unknown locations with the windows low, stop to take in an incredibly picturesque scene.  During this time of the year, the urge to act on these desires increase in relation to my inability to do them.  I'm not sure if that sentence made any particular sense whatsoever, but getting my thoughts out feels more complex than normal. 

Maybe that's part of the frustration.  There are all these thoughts and feelings racing through me both positive and negative yet I am completely incapable of expressing any of them.   Like small waves within a bathtub slowly filling with water, unable to drain the excess, and eventually overflowing creating a wet mess all over the floor.  Thus there's the rush to wipe it all up before it leaks through the floor and begins to slowly drop in on your neighbor who finds it more irritating than anything else.  Right now there's this overwhelming need to control the emotions, the thoughts, and keep them at a pleasant equilibrium.  Instead of waves in a tub, I long for them to be like the waves of the ocean: to go in and out with the tide.  Slowly, in time this constant push and pull shapes the land creatively some of the most beautiful landscapes.  

 I just feel restricted.  My writing feels confined and strained.  Everyday, I come and sit at my computer with the deliberate intent to write but as my fingers hit the keys, I find myself reluctant to let go.  My right pinky finger jumps to the backspace bar far more frequently as I write and then rewrite everything.   The words feel hollow, the thoughts superficial, and the analogies cliche.  Attempting to write anything creative feels almost impossible as just trying to get the simple journal structure is an arduous task.  What's crazy about it all is there are many topics that I would like to discuss at length or want to jump into.  I spend my days exploring the new and interesting places within the interwebs getting inspiration, formulating goals and plans, but then am unable or unsuccessful at articulating them.   

There's also this disconnect; I feel more detached from my feelings now than I have in a really long time.  Whenever this feeling or lack of feeling becomes a predominant presence within me, I know that it's only a matter of time for the pendulum to swing in the opposite direction.  Soon, maybe tomorrow, possibly next week, or even two weeks from now the numbness will dissolve and the feelings will emerge stronger, sharper, and it becomes a struggle for me to see anything without being colored by them.   Sometimes they color the natural world with pink and other times they shadow it with gray.   I want the moderation that I thought I was getting better at maintaining.  At the moment, I don't feel out of control.  Hardly actually and that's what's got me mentally anxious (though not physically as feeling anxious isn't happening).  I'm afraid I'm going to allow judgement and criticism to sweep in and taint the thoughts when the feelings are on hiatus.  

Thankfully, I have another person with my mentor and wise woman on Tuesday.  This isn't the first time I've looked to the future thinking of the anticipation that I know I should be feeling.  Yes it does seem as confusing to me as it sounds.  What I need to remember though and keep repeating to myself is that this will pass.  It might swing but the apathy isn't as strong and therefore the feelings shouldn't be when they flood back.  I've got the tools and I'll get a friendly reminder in a couple of days about which ones are best used in these situations.