One day you’re on—your motivation is pumping, ideas are flowing, creativity is up, energy is up— and then boom. Life hits you with a big one. Something shifts for the worse, or something you didn’t see before, you now see and can’t deny. And often, it’s something that has the power to shake the very foundation of what you thought you understood.
It happens. Why? Because plain and simple “life be life-ing.” Every day, all day. And the big ones… they always come without warning. They come crashing through a side door—unaccounted for and definitely uninvited. Yet, here it is—life. And with it… grief.
And suddenly, the days feel heavy. Where your moments were once light, bright, and inspired… they’re now draining. Motivation is buried somewhere underneath it all. It’s a weight you can’t quite shake.
But still, there are responsibilities. And those don’t disappear just because grief decided to make an appearance. The show must go on. And while nothing has changed on the outside, everything is shifting on the inside… and so, you try to keep up.
That quiet pressure of knowing we still need to show up—creatively, financially, consistently—in the middle of grief and everyday responsibilities… that’s what I want to sit with today. Because it’s strange how deeply your emotions can disrupt your creativity… and how your creativity is often tied to how you make a living.
It’s a strange place to be—feeling uninspired, overwhelmed, and still responsible for building something that requires you to be on.
There’s a guilt that comes with it too. Like you should be pushing through and doing more. But grief doesn’t respond to pressure like that. It lingers. It pulls. It weighs everything down. Even simple things feel heavy—but they’re still necessary to keep going.
As I sit in the midst of it, I’m starting to realize that maybe when these seasons come, this still counts as showing up. Not the fully inspired version of me— but a quieter version that’s just trying to stay present, reflect, and release.
Because what I know for sure, and can say, is this— I’ve been here before in some form, and I know it doesn’t last forever. The light does return.
So for now, I’m marking the days. Reflecting. Feeling what I feel. And quietly storing the lessons, the revelations, the aha moments—to press into my work when the energy and inspiration return.
Maybe tomorrow – I’ll create… Til then, I’ll just be here. Present. And that will have to be enough.