i used to think that i was the only one who ever experienced mental fogs. that inability to focus on a singular idea, or really, any idea at all. or maybe it’s the inability to stop thinking about a single idea and get your mind onto something else. it comes up every so often and it’s relentless when it does – it hits me for days on end. i try to write and nothing comes out. i try to read and nothing inspires. i listen to music and nothing moves me. sometimes i wonder if it’s depression. i don’t think it’s that extreme.
but i realized that other people feel it too. so then i thought it was just something that creative people feel – the inability to get started on your work; to see the image in your head; to find the first word; to hear the first note, etc. but something about that (or perhaps it’s simply my own framing of the issue) feels terribly patronizing to people who wouldn’t consider themselves “creative.”
so i guess i’m at this point where i realize everyone has fog from time to time. and that’s okay.
the concern, really, should be if we don’t recognize it. the concern should be if we give credence to the lack of inspiration, if we don’t recognize that we’ve become temporarily blind, numb, call it what you want – whatever it is, it’s okay to wander a little bit but don’t we want it lifted?
someone famous once coined the phrase: “the opposite of love is not hate, but indifference.” (a brief google search tells me this was Elie Wiesel, don’t @ me if i’m wrong.)
that’s what’s so scary to me about this feeling – it inherently carries an ache with it. it’s a numb ache. an aching numbness. the thing i hate the most about the feeling is that i feel nothing at all. and that’s alarming because i know that the worst thing any of us can do as people is to stop caring.
it’s alarming but it’s also reassuring for the same reason – i don’t feel good about feeling foggy, i don’t feel good about feeling nothing, i don’t feel good about feeling uninspired. the numbness and the ache play off of each other and it’s kind of miserable but at the same time, it helps me know that something will break it.
we hate numbness because we know that feeling is important.
feeling is important because we want to see a better world and if nothing hurts, then nothing gets better.
so we ache a little but we hurt a lot and when we hurt a lot, we love a lot and in the deepest love and the deepest hurt come the deepest satisfaction and the greatest healing, so we’re able to carry on and keep on trucking when we feel nothing at all because somehow, in this mess of inexplicable, perplexing emotion, we know that when we feel nothing, it’s a sign we should be feeling something and that keeps us going and moving on until we feel it again.
ache a little.
love a lot.
hurt a lot.
heal a lot.
make the world better and more loving.