It’s been very difficult to write. Even though I love writing and feel it is my true calling in life; melancholy has engulfed me. Fear is my usual writer’s block but melancholy like fear is another millstone that becomes tied around my neck dragging me deep into the waters of despair.
Unlike fear, melancholy produces a more cynical mental resistance to writing. When I am crippled with fear, I usually have a hopeful longing to write. With melancholy, I become almost aggravated with myself and internally squabble with my thoughts. I debate everything that arises in my head on what to write about. I find every reason on why what I have to write is frivolous. Frivolous because not only what I have to write won’t make a difference in this world but also it will not make a difference in my own life. I grow to despise what I think and feel. Melancholy latches onto me like a blood sucking leach and drains me of my creativity. It even transforms into physical lethargy. I know this is describing depression. So many people deal with depression. Furthermore, as I write this we have so many difficult events going on in the world from pandemics to devastating injustice. This requires a moral endurance to keep going and to do what is right. We all have a voice. We all have a purpose. We all have certain gifts and talents that can be put to use. There are so many events in life that demand our acknowledgement and action. This doesn’t just mean the big events but the small events that occur in our lives whether good or bad. The events that seem to “non-eventful” in our lives are chances for inspiration. We can use them to connect with other people.
One example is a water fight I had with the love of my life. We were like carefree kids and enjoying a rare moment of escape from the mundane of adulthood. It all started with some joking and verbal jabbing that escalated into a water war. She sprayed me with the spray bottle we use to correct our loving albeit unpredictable dog. I then wrestled the spray bottle from her and sprayed her. It did not stop there. It ended with cups of water and a pitcher of water being thrown at each other. It was a welcomed escape. It was a moment where all rules were suspended. We were allowed to enter an arena where only fun games were played with no losers or schemes at work. We were two people having fun at the expense of being comfortable and dry. To hell with comfortable complacency, I say!
That moment means so much and I’ll explain. This life will break you before it will build you. We must find every moment where we feel whole, hopeful, and vulnerable. The water fight was all of those wonderful elements that make up a person. That experience was inspiration but it shouldn’t take a random water fight to inspire me to write. There is so much that I am missing around me and that’s what melancholy wants. In order to keep melancholy at bay, I have to retain a keen eye on all of my daily occurrences with a purposeful intent to absorb inspiration around me like a sponge.
I am a writer. It’s a part of me like my vital organs and my appendages. It’s not a hobby. It’s not a burden. It’s my purpose and the world around me fits into that purpose. It’s speaking to me and I must listen and then record. I should be more worried to not write than to write.
The Writings of a Madman 
So much of what you said here is not lost on me. You have expressed what I, and so many others also feel on a daily basis. The good news is we are still breathing. And for as long as we are, we will continue to push towards our destiny. Some of the things you said here were as if they were coming out of my own mouth. The feeling that what you do or say means nothing. And that when you are gone it won’t matter. But even though I feel that way plants of times myself, I know it in my heart to not be true. I recently watched the movie about Jeremy Camp’s life and one quote in particular stood out to me. His wife says, “If one person’s life is changed by my story, then it will all be worth it.” I heard the story of Jeremy Camp and his first wife long ago. In fact, we were at Walmart on one of our many trips there, and there was a Jeremy camp live unplugged album that we both wanted, but there was only one copy. You gave in and let me have it. I watched that dvd and that is when I first heard the story about his wife and how even through that, his faith remained strong. That story had a lasting impact on me. Even to this day. I can say that if no one else was ever affected by that story, I was. So the tragedy that came on her was not in vain. If I was asked to attempt at giving you my advice, for whatever it’s worth, it would be this:
Write whatever is in your heart. Put it out to the world just like with this latest blog post. Focus on just writing, even if it seems chaotic and unorganized. I believe that one day you will write that first novel. And I can’t wait to read it. You have a gift for writing that is very apparent. What you say does matter. And it does mean something to someone; it does to me. You have always seemed, to me, wise beyond your years. And because of that I have always considered what you have to say. Over the years you have formed and influenced the way I think and what I believe greatly. And I believe in a positive way.
That means the world to me Kirk…thank you for those words and your thoughts and the support.
This is profoundly written! I also share the calling to write and same melancholy feelings too. It is a crime not to write. I’m empty if I don’t at least journal.