Now, What Did I Come In Here For?

I'm having a lot of trouble finding my words, lately. I wrote about something related before, in a joking way, but this is... a lot of the time, now.

I'm feeling such big things, and having deep reactions, and I know what I want to say... but the words don't come. I haven't written here, and there are many, many replies on unschooling email lists that I've wanted to write, and haven't been able to. Even on facebook, I start to update my status and the word that I need will be just out of reach. I can think of other words that start with that letter, or that end similarly. Sometimes I calmly wait until a substitute word floats its way to my mind, or sometimes I pull up thesaurus.com - starting from way, way out from where I want to be, 'cause that's as close as my mind will get, then circling in closer and closer through clicking on related words, narrowing it down, until: a-ha! That's it!

I'm mostly at peace with it; it is what it is. I am here, with whatever this space is of not finding the words I really want.

I was talking with my sister the other night, and we were joking about it (getting older!), and she said, it could be from lowered estrogen levels. Which makes sense, 'cause I remember those studies that said for every word that a man said, women said 3,000 words, or something like that. So a word-estrogen link makes sense to me.

It's taken me three days to write this post so far, off and on. I was commenting on someone's facebook status today, and it took about 5 minutes for the word "integrity" to come to me. I knew it started with an "i", and I could picture what I wanted, a wholeness...

And I'm so frustrated, 'cause I've wanted to write about being in recovery, no longer being in recovery, and Patti Digh's post today would be the perfect springboard for that - because of these words: "Sometimes I wonder how much we invest in our own woundedness when investing in our capacity for joy might be right at hand, just there, just on the other side of the glass." Because I stopped going to my 12-step group because I stopped believing I was broken, and that's where the groups met, at the broken places. No one in meetings saw me as whole, and OK. I want to meet with people with whom I can invest in our shared capacity for joy.

But I can't write about it, because the words are hiding from me.

I'll look into Estroven, which my sister told me about, and see if it's something I want to try. If I feel able, I'll do research on losing your words and what it might mean. (I'm also finding it difficult to read very much at a time.) I really, really wish I qualified for Medicaid, or yes, that we had a public option already.

I'll trust that I'm right where I'm supposed to be, for whatever reason, and work to see how I might not be here any more.

I'm wondering if, as a new me emerges, through life coaching, and looking inside, and growing - maybe this blog doesn't fit me any more? Maybe it's not the words, it's the container? I haven't tried writing too many other places, that might be something to look into.

Well, actually, yes I have tried, but I get frustrated and stop.

I also wonder, maybe I'm not supposed to be writing, I'm supposed to be doing. And be-ing.

I'll keep you posted, one way or another ~