A line from The Artist’s Way made me stop in my tracks, then read it again. It’s part of an essay on creative dry seasons, when we feel empty and like we have nothing to say, like our emotions are dried up.
Julia Cameron writes,
A drought is a tearless time of grief. We are between dreams.
I think these words can describe more than a creative dry season. A time of tearless grief, of being between dreams – can you relate to this? I can. Feeling like there really isn’t anything to work towards, feeling too tired to be emotional even though it’s also a time of pain.
The solution, according to The Artist’s Way (which is, after all, a book about creative recovery) is to keep writing Morning Pages (three pages every morning about anything at all), keep plodding forward until the rain begins to fall, until there is a shift, until the drought ends.
I think this might…actually describe what happened for me this summer.
