I sat down hours ago to write a blog post but nothing I wrote felt right to publish.

I often refer to writing as me being a garden hose through which water flows. Water is energy and I like to feel energy flowing through me as I freely type what comes out or follow impulses to look up references. But tonight there seems to be a kink in the hose.

I started writing several times, I’d get so far and then the water would get cut off. I’d scratch that false start and try again. I tried and tried to come up with something profound to say and now I have come this conclusion—I have nothing profound to say, because I’m trying too hard. I’ve been trying to write on a schedule. All the articles I read about being a good blogger say to do that. Problem is, my inner being doesn’t work on a schedule! I just have to write when the notion hits me and the inspiration is there.

So, consider this post a testament to the power of just being and allowing. When we’re not being and allowing, when we’re struggling to “make it happen,” we may squeeze something out, but it won’t sing and zing. It may be grammatically perfect, but it will be lacking—something. In the same way, I suppose life is like that, too. So long as we are struggling to make things happen, to force all the pieces into place, there is a form of resistance that we become unaware of and instead of allowing elements to come together in their own time, we start yanking on them and trying to force them into place. We take on worrying, fretting, and trying to figure out how to “make” things happen like we want them to, instead of focusing on the kind of person we want to “be,” and working on our internal selves. After all, we are not called human “doings.” We are called human “beings.” A passage from the book of Matthew just popped into my head, “Seek ye first the Kingdom of God and its righteousness and all of these things will be added unto you.” Yes, work on the inner person, get the inner being aligned with I Am’s path, and the outer stuff will all fall into place.

My best writing is done when I’m NOT trying, when I’m just letting words flow out of me, letting concepts be born. You can’t force a creation out before it’s ready. You’ll have a premature baby on your hands if you do, or worse, an intellectual miscarriage.

I am going to allow myself not to have something deep and profound to share. I’m going to allow myself to babble about garden hoses and word babies and how I love the comforting sound of a refrigerator motor and the songs of crickets outside my window and random Bible scriptures or movie quotes or whatevers (we all need some whatevers sometimes.) And maybe next time I sit down I will have some astounding insight.

Now that I look back on it, I realize that this felt good and maybe there is a nugget of yumminess in this post after all, or at least a drink of water.