writer's block

I had never thought that my headspace would be paralyzed or shut down, especially by a virus. We are shifting out of the homeplace of influenza and so homesick. Writing has been more than a refuge, it's a heartland and island that is known only to my dreams and designs.

Like a thief, a fog landed and stole my sense of certainty.
I was so certain I would always run on inspiration.
Shadows have no preference or manners. It's easy to assume they set the tone and may never shift.
The shadows own and predict nothing.
Possibly, the enforced rest encourages reflection and re-evaluation that can delight rather than devour.

But the real  world that stares at your complacency reminds you of the person that once was active and productive. The darkness can serve to remind you of sunnier days, and the memory of sunlight.
God doesn't stop His plans and purposes because of your perceptions, there will be a way out.
It's only about time, about patience and remembering the distance between a visiting feeling and those that you choose to embrace and offer a home.