Stuck

Written by JasononDecember 30th, 2024

Writer's block. Two words that carry an outsized weight for anyone who has ever tried to string sentences together with purpose. It’s not just a creative hiccup; it can feel like an existential question: Am I still a writer if I can no longer write?

Lately, I've found myself staring at an empty page for far too long, feeling as though any meaningful writing topic slips away the moment I try to put pen to paper. It's easy to label this as distraction—the noise of life, the ceaseless hum of digital obligations, or just plain fatigue. But deep down, I wonder if it goes beyond that.

Writing has been a thread running through my life, from elementary school essays to blog posts and longer explorations of thought. It's one of the few things that has remained consistent. Yet now, I feel like I'm wading through creative mud, and every sentence feels like a battle.

I know I'm not alone in this. Every writer hits these walls. But knowing it's common doesn't make it less frustrating.

I've started asking myself some hard questions: Am I too distracted? Have I lost my passion for this craft? Or has writing simply become another task on a to-do list, stripped of its joy and spontaneity?

The truth, I think, is more nuanced. Writing isn't just about skill or productivity; it's about alignment. When we're out of alignment—with our purpose, our curiosity, or even our inner voice—the words don't flow. And perhaps the remedy isn't found in forcing the process, but in reconnecting with why we write in the first place.

For me, writing has always been about making sense of the world and, at times, making sense of myself. It's about peeling back the layers of thought until something raw and true emerges.

Maybe the words aren't coming because I'm not giving myself the space to listen. Maybe I need more time in silence, away from screens, with nothing but pen and paper. Or maybe I need to lower the bar I've set for myself and remember that not every piece needs to have a clear beginning, middle, and end.

Lately, I've also been experimenting with writing articles on X in an effort to expand my readership. These posts are not nearly as varied in topics as the things I write on my personal site. As I prepare to transition away from the stability of a regular 9-to-6 job to something far less consistent, sharing my thoughts and building connections through writing feels both necessary and grounding. It's a reminder that writing isn't just about crafting polished sentences; it's about showing up authentically.

Writer's block, frustrating as it is, might just be the mind's way of saying: Pause. Breathe. Pay attention.

So, I will write. I will write when the words come easily, and I will write when they resist me. I will write through the uncertainty, the distractions, and the self-doubt. Because writing isn't about perfection; it's about presence. And presence—returning to the page, again and again—is what truly matters.