📷: 03.04.17 - Marfa, Texas
You know that squeaky sound a wine cork makes when you’re trying to pry it out of the bottle but you, I don’t know, didn’t put the corkscrew in correctly or far enough or whatever? That’s me right now. I’m making that squeaky sound.
I’ve been creatively blocked for what feels like months now. Earlier this year, I spent five days at an ashram, right before my thirty-first birthday. My primary goal of going on this retreat was to work on my spirituality, since I was (and am) rather unsure of what to do next in that area of my life. The experience was enormous – I handed over my iPhone and spent five days meditating, resting, reading, writing, and focusing on some difficult and incredible things. For me, it’s hard to talk about spirituality – that word has so much history for me, grounded in anger and hurt and fear. Over those five days, I was able to reconnect with something inside of me that I thought was long dead or gone or had maybe never existed. Which was wonderful. Astounding. But also scary as hell.
Immediately following my stay at the ashram, I went to Marfa with my partner (which was an amazing trip, 10/10 highly recommend). When I finally got home after about ten days away from my everyday routine, I had a lot of catching up to do, so I plunged myself into my work and haven’t really come up for air since. Part of me wants to blame that on my job – I’m in private practice, and it’s challenging, and it demands a lot of my attention. But I also know that if I’m honest with myself, that’s only part of it. The other, bigger part of it is that I’m stuck. Paralyzed by whatever you want to call it (let’s call it terror and anxiety), I haven’t moved forward spiritually or creatively since.
On New Year’s Eve, while we were visiting a small coastal town in south Texas, my partner proposed to me. It was a simple little proposal followed by two of my favorite things in life: crab legs and karaoke. We happened upon the karaoke bar by accident, but ended up making friends with everyone (I may or may not have sang a dazzling rendition of Strawberry Wine). At some point during the course of all the excitement, between the happy new years and the congratulations on your engagement, a psychic came up to me. I didn’t know she was a psychic at first, not until she grasped both my hands and started telling me about myself. She said a lot of things that I can’t chalk up to coincidence, but the last thing she said to me resonated the most. “Your career is taking off,” she said, still holding my hands, looking at me so directly it was almost uncomfortable. “There’s nothing you can’t do, but you have to stop holding yourself back because of fear.” Then she gave me a hug, and I noticed she was wearing the exact same perfume my mom has worn for years.
I recently had my first session with a hypnotherapist who does intuitive counseling, and one of the first things she said to me was “you’re all clogged up!” I’m very much looking forward to my work with her, and as a bold move towards what I hope will be more writing and creative projects, I dusted off the ole website last night and gave her a facelift. More on the hypnotherapy later.
And so I’ll keep working at the bottle, believing the day will come when I hear the familiar pop! and the wine will flow freely – to be savored alone, to be shared with friends, to be made into a mushroom bolognese. Here’s to moving forward despite fear and getting rid of whatever is holding me back. I’m still wriggling that squeaky cork around, but for the first time in a great while, I think I’m finally starting to feel some movement. 🔳