Having not posted for two days, I'm feeling this nagging feeling that I "should" blog. That said, I feel no surge of compelling information or stories to share. Sometimes, the ideas flow without effort, and I madly scribble notes on scraps of paper which I stuff into my pocket to expound upon later. At other times, I send myself emails to archive with ideas for future posts. Still other times, a crystallizing moment arrives and the words spill from my brain to fingers to keyboard to your eyes in a flash.
At this moment, nothing grabs my fatigued mind. I draw a blank. I come up empty. The well feels dry, or at least unyielding to my supplications for inspiration. Sure, I could probably conjure up something if I tried hard enough, squeezing out a pallid story or observation. But for now, I simply allow that well to be in its chosen state as the emotional water-table rises of its own accord. I know, before too long, ideas will flow without effort, words stringing together a picture, an image of life through my eyes.
For now, I choose to sit with this sudden literary muteness, knowing full well that this too shall pass, most likely no later than tomorrow. Til then, be well.