Isn't it amazing how there are things in life that can suck away at your creative juices without you even paying attention?
And the sad part is that you have control of these Muse killing vampires.
But the problem is that you focus on everything else and turn a blind eye to this draining thing/things.
Did you know that my life revolved around creativity, music and art when I was younger? I was in every choir I could get my hands on. I sang five days a week--multiple times a day and some weekends and I loved it. At one point I planned to work my way through college until I made it off Broadway. I couldn't imagine a time that I didn't sing. Hell! When I wasn't singing for a group I was singing in the shower, on the walk to and from school and while cleaning.
I also danced 5 days a week for show choir and during the performances. And sometime for the spring musical. I also played piano most days, as my grandmother (a retired piano teacher and full time organist) came out of retirement to teach me.
I was also in art class and had a notebook for sketching and doodling.
And when I wasn't doing these thing (and school work) I was reading everyday throughout the day and most days I wrote short stories for fun.
Fast forward and I not only stopped singing in choirs etc. But I stopped singing Karaoke (which is something I did at least once a month for about a decade give or take.) And I did a vaudville style show for a while that had dancing, but it became too much of a hassle. I was also in a writing group with friends for a few years, and MAN the stories and story ideas I had were great then. And they all tapered off.
In fact, I was quite surprised to realize, about a years and a half ago, that I'd stopped reading for fun.
I was able to get back to reading every day, which is like meditation for me, but the other stuff is still gone.
For someone who used to sing and dance all the time, I don't sing anymore. Not even in the shower.Not while cleaning. Not at karaoke. No listening to music, except at work. Nothing. I don't dance anymore, except last year a couple times I danced at a kids dance to get my daughter out on the floor. Never for the pure joy of it. I never draw. The last time was a couple years ago with the kids while we were making silly doodles. and before that over four years ago in my notes at college. And I haven't written much. Each time I try to write a story or pick up where I left off, there is no drive. No passion. I can't see or feel my characters. I did a couple 30 min. word sprints and pushed through them just to prove I could but it left me feel flat. And tired.
Now, there have been many thing that have happened over the years: Kids, kids injuries and sickness, taking care of my MIL with Dementia for 2 years as her primary care giver, college, more college, still college (APA sucks the creativity out of all my writing), financial stress, loss of pets, loss of family, loss of karaoke, loss of writing group,my mom having a stroke, having to move, having to move my family in 5 days, my husband traveling all the time and being gone for over a month while I moved us and settled us into a new home, my husband dying and coming back, but then struggling with recovery both physically and mentally (and me, too) A crazy amount of doctor appointments in the last4 months(I think my hubby has like 8 or 9 dr. with regular appointments) A change at my old job-then getting a new job, and 2 kids at 2 schools that need dropped off and picked up all while having 1 van. (and other things I'm sure I didn't think to add.
Now these are all valid distractions, but the main problem here is me.
I got so focused on everything else and everybody else, that I ignored me. And now, I feel this void.
I got back in the habit of always reading a little bit and that helps, but I reach for my MUSE and there is no answer. There's a hole there. It's dark and depressing and pretty deep after all these years.
I don't think it's writer's block.
I think my MUSE is dead. It's like everytime I try to do something joyful and creative I'm just moving my dead zombie MUSE around like a puppet master putting on a good show.
I tried singing in the shower but didn't feel like it. I got a few lines to a sad song out and then just trailed off and started mentally organizing a list of all the things I had to do that day. I tried to draw the other day and just made round scribbles and pushed it to the side to work on my grown-up lesson plan paper that was due tonight. I went on my phone to play piano tiles because it makes my heart glad to hear songs that I used to play and I can remember the feel of the piano keys under my fingers as I made beautiful music flow, but then I got distracted by my google calendar, upcoming appointments, and messages I needed to respond to.
I thought I might get my writing juices going by blogging a little every other day or so. And I spent a good ten minutes staring at this blank page trying desperately to remember any of the blog ideas I used to store away for when "I had time" and came up blank.
I thought: What's wrong with me? Why can't I think of anything interesting, relevant or funny? Where's the passion? Where's the joy? Where's my MUSE?
Do I keep moving my MUSE's cadaver around-imitating life. Do I bury him and just give in to the void? Do I go to the MUSE humane society and see if there is a little muse there, that's lost like me and needs a good home? I really don't know.
But...
I think I will listen to some music. I think, I'll write some blogs about stupid crap--whatever crosses my mind. I think I'll take advantage of not having any classes until January and actually do NANOWRIMO this November, even if I just spread the stench of my corpse-muse guts all over the paper. I may do some dance fitness videos--just because I love to dance. And I may ask Santa Clause to get me a keyboard (it may not be a full sized piano, but it can sound like one)
I think I might just keep practicing the things that used to light up my soul until they become habits. Then we'll see how my MUSE is doing. It may be a little brand new weak little baby MUSE, but it'll have room to grow.
