Dunes of the Namib Desert, taken by Simon Collins

I can’t think of a time when I’ve had a longer dry spell in terms of writing. I’m not quite at the shaking-hands staring-eyes push-food-towards-me-with-a-stick-lest-I-bite-your-fingers-off phase of writing withdrawal… but I think I’ve approached it. And, thankfully, I’m taking steps to get myself out of it.

They’re slow, much slower than I’d like, but they’re happening. Case in point: this blog post! I certainly have a great deal to talk about, outside of the choking miasma that occasionally drifts through my headspace, and I need to get back in the habit of making words, my words, happen every day. And while I correspond with friends and write out internal experiences and sort out feelings, that isn’t the same as informing the world, shedding light on Truth, or telling the stories that need telling.

My goal, in all of the things I do and every choice I make, is to reduce cruelty in the world while increasing love. I’ve made some blunders along the way, had impulses and emotions blindside my conscious mind, and even come close to breaking down on an occasion or two. But I still haven’t given up. I’m still committed to doing everything I can for the people I care about. And I’m working just as hard as I ever have to get out of my rut and take the path less traveled, the one walked by troubadours and truth-tellers, the one paved in paperback covers of those who inspire me to join their ranks.

Deserts are vast. They are unforgiving. They are punishing, desolate, silent, and lonely places.

But they are not the entirety of the world. Nor do they last forever.

And I am finally, finally, coming to the end of this one.