I sit here on this 18th day of July, and as much as I would like to, at the moment I have nothing really I want to write about. Though it is my birthday my mind seems to be blank of a worthwhile topic that may lift up or edify. I am not sure why but my birthday often leaves me feeling this way as if some unknown force has sucked the joy out of me.
My Father passed away on this day seven years ago and the only thing I can think of is that perhaps that has something to do with it. At first this seemed a logical assumption but over time I have healed and find that using that as a validation for the morose mindset is not really a fair or valid explanation.
Perhaps the best thing to do when struggling with what to write and sensing a black cloud following me around is to not write anything at all, but rather to let it pass… things always look better in the morning.
The old clichés often times are based in aged wisdom and this one is no exception, “If you can’t think of anything good to say, don’t say anything at all.