There’s nothing worse than staring at a blank page and a blinking cursor and not knowing how to begin.

I’m definitely in a writing funk right now, which is depressing because I want to write. I want to feel the words flow, feel my ideas take shape, watch as threads of thought morph into shapes on a page.

And yet all I can do is write about not being able to write.

I get an idea and open a new page to write out my, seemingly, well formed thoughts, then discover I my mind is blank. I have nothing to say.

Which makes me wonder if I have anything to say at all. I mean, what am I doing with a blog? What do I have to say that hasn’t already been said my someone else, somewhere else.

It’s true, there seem to be no new ideas, but I remind myself that I am a unique being, there is no other quite like me. Sure there’s someone out there similar to me, but no one is ME.

So I should have something to say, right?

My perspective is a little different from someone else’s, comes from a different place, and different experiences.

All right then. Looks like I may very well have something to write about.