I’ve been in Seattle two months.
I know my friends have wondered why I haven’t blogged more since moving here. I’m not sure my explanation will make sense…but I’ll try.
Perhaps my tendency towards the verbose is somehow linked to sunshine? Nah…that’s not it. (Come on…You knew I’d make a rain joke right?)
Denver was a hard move. Seattle has been a hard move. Hard in each of these sentences practically needs a separate definition. And somewhere along the lines I’ve lost my words.
Recently I’ve realized that since moving here, I speak almost no words each day. When I try to write, I edit myself over and over and over and find that despite a deep love of words, I use as few as possible. Odd for the girl for whom the sewing together of words has always been like breathing. I have a strange anxiety when my phone rings that I won’t be able to hold up my side of a conversation…even with people I love dearly. I find I use all my words with a few friends via email and have a few simple text conversations a week. Even when I was a child without words…I wrote words. Yet for the first time since learning that letters make words, we seem to have had a parting of ways.
I live in the most literate city in the United States…and words escape me. 
What does a writer…a writer who is alone in the world with little more than a pen for company…do when her words disappear? I’ll let you know when I find out.
I’ve started the Gratitude Journal page on this blog in hopes that just sharing something each day will stir something in me that has gone missing. We’ll see.
To be clear…I’m fine. Nothing is broken. I have good and bad days, as people in transition are wont to do. But those who know me can confirm that the sheer strength of my will and a relationship with The Divine helps me get up every single day and find my smile…and on good days a laugh.
Until the words come again…love to you my friends!
I think Seattle has that effect on the verbose. I promised everyone I’d blog as often as possible while there last summer and it started out OK but then I just sort of lost myself in, well… mySelf. I should add that Seattle is a rather wondrous place to live and it’s easy to just wander around in awe nearly dumbstruck. Don’t sweat it, it’ll come back and before you know it you’ll be camped out at a Starbucks in a comfy leather chair nursing some hoighty-toighty drink and writing about the world around you and your place in it.
For now, revel in the silence! ;0)
i think quiet can be a good thing, but i feel your anxiety when it starts to feel to lengthy and too weighty. the gratitude journal sounds like a great idea. i try to use the “3 beautiful things” model during these times, or find a few of my fail-safe authors/artists who engage me/draw me out and away for a conversation that feels new or delightful.
i hope some of the weight and worry of the silence begins to ebb for you soon.
~L