Of Self Imposed Silences

Hello My Dear One,

It has been five months since I have written, though certainly not due to a lack of desire. In fact, I physically inscribe the words BLOG and WRITE on my daily To-Do List, intending to do just that sometime during that twenty four hour cycle. And yet, nearly half of a year has gone by, and I have only fragments of ideas that seemed more grand in my head than when they fell on the pages. There are pages with little more than a paragraph etched out on them, while other concepts grew into pages of their own, sprawling and wandering like weeds instead of flowers. It is not a barren wasteland, but an untilled field that has been left too long and the vegetation is no longer cultivated.

I'm tempted, like many writers, to claim that I have been suffering from a case of writers' block. A creative condition that supposedly keeps us from meaningful, if any writing whatsoever for an indeterminate period of time. It is a common phenomena in the artistic community, to be unable to create something, well, creative.

I could also claim that it is due to a streak of perfectionism that has had an immobilizing effect on my creativity, not to mention my productivity. But in truth I have chosen to fill my time with empty hours of television, online videos, and other created distractions. I have purposely opted out of writing for fear that I would get it wrong, whatever it is.

The core reality is that I have been afraid that what I write will not be ok in the community that I live and work in. I am afraid that if I say how I feel about internal parts of myself, that there will be external consequences to me and perhaps even my family. I have convinced myself that my truths are no longer as valuable as the delicate balance I have struck between personal expression, and public acceptance, and employment.

I have chosen to silence myself.
I have chosen to fall to my fears.
I have chosen to hide.

I have chosen to extinguish my light, so that I can maintain a perceived status quo, that ultimately doesn't exist. I have been living within a self created set of boundaries of what is and is not appropriate.

I have censored myself.
I have banned my own writings.
I have burned my own thoughts.

This self imposed silence has served though only to keep me from myself. Of course it has kept me from you as well. It has kept me in my own private room where the darkness blots out the light that enters or exits.

But the walls have begun to crack, and the light is seeping in, and perhaps seeping out. I am called to be accountable to my own truths. I am feeling the physical toll, the mental decay, the emotional instability, and the spiritual emptiness from having neglected them for too long. I cannot carry the weight of all my words, and I do not want to.

Silence

So, it's time to break my silence, and in the coming days and weeks I will be sharing those paragraphs and pages. I will sit with them, fully present, and listen to myself as the stories, the journeys, the unknowns, and the wished for are ready to enter into the light. And it will be in the presence of G-d that I am grounded and sustained as I do my work. And it will be with you in my heart all still on this journey.

Thank you for being with me in my silences.

Be well, love your neighbor as you love yourself, and remember to actually love yourself.

-Ari