My creativity quotient is near zero. You bloggers know what I mean? AKA writer's block.
I function well under stress, hence my long satisfying career in social services. Family life is good, work life is steady. What suffers is my creativity and that's a huge hunk of life for me.
Riding the waves of crisis, one after the other, tired and teetering, bringing the last one in with finesse, finding myself stuck in the sand with no creative energy. The water retreats around my ankles. comes back in, recedes again and I'm mid calf. Mired. And it's Christmas time to boot.
It's not all bad. Being held still lets me take stock and prioritize. Family. Work. My top two. What will I let go? Christmas cards yet again. I am known for clever holiday greetings but the years find them fewer and farther between. I appreciate that my daughter has taken over the tradition. The tree may be solely ceramic instead of fir. Blogging will go to once or twice per week. I will stash my watercolours to wait for calmer seas. When I knit I'll reach for comfort yarns and rhythmic patterns.
That's another Lacey Kerchief in cashmere, the pattern recently having gotten me through the ER, ICU, CCU and other upsetting acronyms.
In the meantime I'll let those creative energies simmer. The more I rest the more they bubble, and after awhile I know what happens, they'll boil over. You'll see me at every knit night and my Mastercard bill will bulge with painting workshop tuition fees.
Life's a Stitch 
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