Permission to Be: Nothing to say, still writing

I sat down to write a blog post with the intention of creating something helpful. Something with shape. Insight. Direction. But what came instead was this—an unfiltered stream of thought and sensation, a reflection of what it feels like to pause and be in the in-between. It is not polished. It doesn’t arrive at a takeaway. But it felt honest, and I decided to share it anyway. Curious. Maybe you’ve had moments like this too.

What is pulling me into writing a blog at this moment?
I’m not sure.

Hmm. There are topics that seem cool, but nothing is driving me to go anywhere.

There is a contentedness I feel inside right now. Like a restful state in satisfaction. Like I feel calm and at peace, and there aren’t a lot of parts in me that are wanting to think hard about things right now.

There is just the awareness of this moment flowing out of me.

This feels like ease. Less effort. Just a flowing stream of consciousness.

Be still, a part of me says.
Be gentle with your writing, it says.

My breathing feels more profound right now than when I am working in the week. Or when there is a lot of cognitive processing going on.

Listening to the wisdom of my body is making me just follow this part of me. Follow this part, and it will guide you to what is needed right now.

I pause.
I pause some more.

What happens when I just follow this without working with parts of me that try to generate? That try to think?

I become even more restful as I stay aware of what’s happening.

A quiet part of me is slowly coming up. Pressuring a little bit to generate.
I notice it, and it steps back.

Is anything else needed for this moment?

My body is experiencing calm.
Still following.

There’s a part of me that says nothing more is needed.
Then another part of me says, it would be interesting to see what happens when you write about the nothing coming up for you.

There’s some pressure again. I can feel it in my forehead. It’s a sort of vibration.
The pressure to think. The pressure to recruit.

What outweighs me inside right now is the experience of being.

At other times, what can feel stronger is the desire to write.
And sometimes things just click.

I wonder where that spark or click is today.

A part of me is saying, why can’t you just pick something?
Another part says, to be authentically me, something has to call to me.

But what if nothing is calling?

I can call for it.
I can seek it out.
I can put in that effort.

Nothing is generating.

Maybe that’s okay for now.

There’s a slight disappointment in this.
Wishing something would pop up right now.
But I guess not.

It’s okay to be disappointed.

There’s a part of me that says that.
But the disappointment is here.

Although this part of me exists right now, it is soft and gentle.

It’s saying, I thought we were going to do something today.
Write something. Something with a title.
A topic worth sharing. A something helpful.

Helpful.
Insightful.
Meaningful.

This right here isn’t really meaningful.

But what if it is, says another part of me?
What if it is?

Some things are left unfinished, I guess.
Maybe it wasn’t meant to be this time.

I know I didn’t want to put in too much cognitive effort.

Maybe this is okay for now.
Knowing the choices I made.

Let it rest.

-Imuri