Writers block

I am sitting here trying to write, yes, trying. It is not working. Funny as for the last month, words have flowed from my mind like a flooded river in NSW (crazy floods in Australia yet again). But I sit here. And nope. Nothing. Normally I am brimming with ideas to write about, experiences to share, but for some reason they simply don't come. Not that my life is boring, nothing to say the least, I attended a puja this morning by His Holiness, he actually walked within 2 metres of me.....but do you think I can find the words to describe the magical quality that surrounded the temple today....or the unbelievable energy of being in the presence of His Holiness? Nope. Nothing. But then it happens from time to time, I get lost for words. Mind you it is not very often, but there are times where I simply have nothing to say. Or perhaps it is more that I can't find the words, or correction, the right words to express things clearly, accurately and to do the experience the justice they deserve.

Don't get me wrong, there has been plenty to write about. The constant battle I have (in my own head of course) with what I "should" be doing which is often bought on by having to answer the question from many people "so what do you do here", I am sure some of you also wonder that, and I am finding that "just being" usually shuts people up. I am thinking I might say I am retired as then people have a reason for why I am not working, it is funny how in the west we measure our worth, our success, our contribution to society by what we do for a job.  But my favourite question, usually from local Indians, "you are not married? Seriously?" - always with one eyebrow raised and said in sheer disbelief. I would like to think they are so surprised that such a gorgeous, wonderful girl like myself could possibly be single, but alas, it is merely the horror that someone my age would be unwed. As my landlord so politely put it the other day, once women are over 30 in India it is quite challenging, but once you hit 35 it is over. Clearly I am out of the wedding game. My dreams of sailing off into the sunset with a Indian prince have been shattered. Seriously though, I guess it is other people's ideas, expectations, questions and beliefs that can get me thinking.....and then I come back to hang on, wait a minute, who do I need to answer to? Is it the French backpacker that finds it weird I don't have a job, is it the Indian landlord that looks at me with sympathy as I am clearly destined a life of solitude and misery? No, it is me that I have to look at in the mirror each day, and quite frankly I am quite ok thank you very much.

Sitting watching my view is much easier than writing today :)

 So there you go, that was a hard task, to write when it doesn't want to flow, to put words on a page that I can't seem to find. But like anything, once you start, it really does become hard to stop.