I seem to have blogger’s block. And from what I’ve been reading in some of my sister blogger’s comments, I’m not alone. Of course having nothing to say doesn’t seem to stop me from trying to say it. Apparently I’m not alone in that either, according to the very apt cartoon over on Barbara B's Views From the Road. Though I am full of thoughts, full of words. They kept me awake, populated my dreams. But when I have tried to gather them in some sort of an orderly fashion they have flown off and refuse to be written. I hate it when I can’t write. It makes me feel wifty and insubstantial. Like I am drifting along and somehow missing part of what’s happening. Disconnected somehow from some essential part of myself. I am noticing that I am losing a bit of Witness Consciousness these past few days. I feel dull. Bland and blah. And at the same time I’m feeling more hyper and edgy. Spiritual practices are of the going through the motions sort. Bring myself to the mat, to the prayer book, to the Scripture. Sit. Breathe. Pray. Show up. But it is not all as grim as it could be. There are things I know now that I did not used to know that bring me some comfort. One is that this matters. It counts to show up and just sit. And breathe. And pray. Even if that prayer is just simply, “help, I’m here and I don’t like it.” The other thing I know is that this will pass. Nothing lasts. Not even blogger’s block. I’m writing, after all.