Nothing to say. The spigot has turned off.

There is nothing coming.

I can’t be smart, engaging, clever, or heartfelt.  There is nothing brave coming out of this being, nothing that will make you clap or laugh or cry.

I am uncomfortable.

Will I be loved and appreciated if I don’t make you think?  If I don’t engage you on a Tuesday morning?

Will you unsubscribe in droves?

Pretty much everyone in therapy hits this at some point or another.  The fruitful work becoming an expectation.

Not having anything to say gives us the opportunity to have a new experience.

An experience of exploring the meaning of our need to speak.  To find out what lies beneath it.  Perhaps something like this:  "I always feel like I have to “be” something in order to be worth listening to.  In order to be worth being with.” or something like: “I don’t want to waste your time."

Put words to your feelings when you have nothing to say.  And sit with them.  Let yourself feel what you feel.  And then look across the room - is your therapist impatient?  Bored?  Right with you?  This could be an interesting experiment.

The shadow side of creative work is when we too closely conflate our work and our worth.

As my Continuum teacher says, “life wants itself."

So recline.  Rest.  Sleep.  Dream.  Ramble.  Confuse me.  Give me “too” much information.  It’s all welcome.

And together we teach each other that we’re wanted.