I felt Zen as we went around the room. I felt at home, trusting whatever came. Others catalogued insecurities, described decades of anxiety, outlined sacrifices to the muse. “I’ve been practicing with Just This,” I told Linford as an aside. “Just gave a talk on it. We make ourselves miserable with all that we add.” Three hours later — still waiting for the muse.
If this resonates, I’d love to hear from you. A comment, a share, or even just a like goes a long way. Writing into the void is its own practice, but knowing the work lands makes it easier to keep showing up.