One Apple A Day #697 - senseless
This morning, I have no ideas for my writing practice.
Or better, I have too many fragments of ideas but no one good enough to start.
It's not the first time. It happens more often than I'd like.
And even if I should be used to this feeling by now, it still makes me feel uncomfortable. Not enough to stop me, obviously. Otherwise, I wouldn't make it so far.
I also learned that if I keep writing, my hands will often find something that my mind could not see. Because my mind loves to play games with me. In particular the game of sense-making.
Anytime a feeling, emotion or an intuition appears in my awareness, my mind begins immediately its quest to find meaning. No matter how hard I try, I can't stay with something I sense for long, without trying to make sense of it.
Yet, I know that not everything must make sense.
Like this post.
That's why I'm stopping it here.
How long will I be able to stay with what I'm sensing without making sense of it?