As an emerging writer, I am learning that balancing creativity with the demands of everyday life often feels like juggling flaming torches while riding a unicycle on a tightrope—blindfolded. Some days, the words flow out of me like magic, and inspiration is my best friend. But then there are the days when life’s challenges, including the deep grief I carry, make it hard to even think about writing, let alone actually do it.
Grief is a tricky companion. It shows up uninvited, like a pushy neighbor who won’t stop dropping by, and it doesn’t care whether I’m in the middle of a sentence or trying to find some semblance of normalcy. There are moments when the weight of missing Logan is so heavy that it feels like my heart is wrapped in lead, making it impossible to focus on anything else. And let’s be honest, writing while crying into your coffee isn’t exactly a recipe for productivity.
In those moments, I’ve learned that it’s crucial to be kind to myself—and to find a little humor in the chaos. Life, with all its ups and downs, doesn’t always play nice with creativity. Sometimes, it insists on throwing curveballs that would make even a seasoned juggler drop everything. And you know what? That’s okay. Writing isn’t just about hitting word counts or meeting deadlines; it’s about nurturing that elusive muse, who sometimes needs a nap after dealing with life’s emotional rollercoasters.
To keep the balance, I’ve started writing in small bursts whenever I can find a moment of peace. Whether it’s jotting down a few lines during a quiet morning or capturing a fleeting thought on my phone while staring into space, these little pockets of creativity help keep the writing process alive. It’s like sneaking in some me-time, even when grief is sitting heavy on my shoulders.
I’ve also come to terms with the fact that some days, the only writing I do is in my head, and that’s okay too. There are days when grief demands my full attention, and I let it. Other days, I find solace in my stories, using them as an escape from the pain while exploring worlds and lives apart from my own. It’s a delicate dance, finding that rhythm between feeling the weight of my emotions and allowing myself the joy of creating something new.
For me, writing is more than just words on a page; it’s a way to process the emotions that swirl inside me, to find a bit of light in the darkness. It’s a balancing act that requires patience, a sense of humor, and a lot of grace. By acknowledging that grief is part of my journey, I’ve learned to be gentle with myself, to embrace the good days, and to accept the tough ones.
To my fellow writers and readers, I say this: find your own rhythm, embrace the chaos, and remember that it’s okay to take a break when life—and grief—demands it.