When I look back at my writing. Especially during the time I was writing morning pages there are some clear themes. Over the course of four years I wrote extensively about specific problems and issues, with no resolve. Looking at it now is like riding The Gravitron. It’s the same thing over and over lasting longer than it should and resulting in an upset stomach.
I believe in the power of writing. I can soapbox about the benefits of filling blank pages with all the crap rolling around my head. In writing so extensively about my struggles I anticipated the process would help. That over time I would get to some solution and relief.
Instead the process of coming back to the same gnat again and again magnified it. The daily rehashing of my frustrations pushed a lot of energy toward it. Leaving little for anything else. In an effort to work through them and break them apart they became a central focus. Bleeding into every part of my life.
I have been painting my own elephants pink.