You may have noticed I haven’t had a blog posted here since losing my dear dad a few weeks ago. I want to thank all of you for your kind expressions of sympathy and your encouragement. You blessed me a great deal. God has held me close, granting me wondrous touches of His kindness and peace. Though grief hits me at unexpected times—such as last night, while I was clearing off the kitchen counter where Dad always used to fix his meals—I have been amazed at the peace and joy sustaining me spiritually and emotionally.
But the one place I’ve really struggled these last few weeks is—you guessed it—writing. I have discovered it’s unbelievably hard to focus. A couple of times, when I sat down to write a blog, I closed my eyes to concentrate…and woke up hours later. The really frustrating part of this is that I have a lot I want to tell you! I’ve got a whole list of blog ideas just waiting to come to life. But when I try to get them on the page…
It’s not happening.
It finally occurred to me this morning that I’m not the only writer to struggle with this kind of thing. With not being able to focus, with feeling as though every word has to be snagged and extracted from the thick fog clogging the creative corners of her mind.
Of course, as I thought about the issue, I came up with some truly brilliant ideas <insert grin here>. But before I share them, I want to know:
How do you write through the fog when it hits?
What tips and ideas can you share with me, and with the writing community, to help get the words out of our clogged-up brains and onto the page? I look forward to reading your thoughts!
Karen, the only answer to my foggy moments after a life-changing event is burying myself in God’s Word. Comfort jumps off the pages into my heart while thoughts and ideas begin to stir. A tiny nugget glistens through the fog–finally, something to expound on. Though, in the beginning, it may only be a sentence or a paragraph, at least it helps the fog to slowly dissipate. Prayers for you, my friend.
Hi Karen, it’s not easy to encourage and inspire people by being transparent in vulnerable seasons – I honor you for that. For me, as a writer, the best way to break through the fog is by doing what I do best: I write. I address a letter to my Heavenly Father and just let it pour out. When I write to Him, there’s no fear of someone critiquing my style or punctuation. I ask Him to shine His light on what’s preventing the words from coming forth and, even as I write these questions, His answer usually flows through me and onto the paper. Through these conversational letters God has illuminated issues like fear, control and busyness and I was able to walk it out with Him.
Awwww Karen. First hugs and prayers for you. Xo
Time heals. And in the meantime pray, pray, pray, pray. But know this- it’s okay to take some time off. Don’t force it. You will write again dear friend. How do I know this? Because Gods love overcomes everything!!
Sympathies and prayers for your loss, and thanks much for the courage to be open and honest about this.
On writing in difficult times, sometimes you just have to sit down and start writing SOMETHING, even if you’re not feeling creative or focused. In my own experience with difficult times these initial efforts tend to be terrible, but they can often start the flood of words going.
Pearl S. Buck, when asked how she got in the mood to write, replied something along the lines of “I never wait for moods. You get nothing done that way. The brain has to learn that it has to get down to work.”
May the Lord bless and keep you in this time of grief.
Sometimes there are seasons where we just need to be still and know that He is God … and listen to the still small voice. I know there are lots of people who talk about powering through blocks because this is your job to write. I’m not one of those people. For me, I might get words on the page that way, but they won’t always be the best words. I don’t think we listen enough in this world … to others or to what God is saying TO US. Sometimes we need to be Mary at his feet and not Martha setting the table.
Having said all that, Mashie’s idea above is very close to what I’d recommend. I might do it as a letter, but I might also free-form journal. Get what’s in my head on the page in whatever form it takes. Sometimes, I discover the gems God has been trying to give me show up there. I take that back–ALWAYS I find the gems God has been trying to give me show up on the page. (It’s like listening to Him through my pen). And if I can’t seem to find words, I’ll start the journal, “I’m journaling because someone told me it was a good idea to do so, but I have no idea what to write. I was thinking maybe I’d write …” And then by the time I’m done it’s usually pretty meaty.
Praying for you Karen. As you move through this season, I know you will have even greater insight for all of us. God Bless!
There’s no easy answer. I lost Mom a year and a half ago and Dad in August, so I get where you’re coming from.
I write in small increments. I’m a new writer with much to learn, so I work on learning while writing.
I have days of no writing. When I can’t think, I certainly can’t be creative, so I’ve learned to extend grace to myself.
I think mostly though, I try to “write out” the pain. I turn on my favorite worship, let the tears flow, and write out the good, the bad, and the ugly. This is usually in blog form. There’s something to be said for the open sharing of pain to total strangers!
Know that God is holding you. He’ll see you through this. There truly is beauty in the hurting and the healing.
I’m praying for you. God bless.
Karen, when my father went to glory I spent some time writing down emotions I felt. I saw him decline and suffer. I used these thoughts for my story, the death of my own great-great grandfather. Two daughters survived him. I knew what they felt. I researched the medical issues for my ancestor’s death (an obituary tells alot back in those days). I found terms and condolences written in that time period to describe the scenes. I am satisfied with the level of emotion and detail for that written death. I can do the same for my current feelings six years later. Take time to write the feelings, though you might never use them. Your feelings will change in time. You can preserve them now.
Karen, I know something of where you are. And now seems to be the hardest time– when all the rest of the world goes back to “normal” life but your life will never be “normal” again because a big part of it is gone.
Like several others who have commented, the best thing for me is to go to Scripture and sit down and write about the comfort and hope I find there. The living Word of God always speaks, and if I can find even a small response in myself, writing that response seems to begin to dissipate the fog.
Karen, you have been in my prayers and will continue to be.
For me I need solitude. Alone time with my Heavenly Father. And the reminder the fog will lift one day, maybe to return, but will lift again. Next is time with my hubby, soaking up some of his strength as well.
When I lost my dad two years ago, I didn’t write for a few months. I had to manage the business of my dad’s life. That took 6 months, was exhausting, and I needed grieving time. There’s a big difference in “foggy” and grief. Yes, grief caused that feeling too. But grief is not something generic. You have to wade in, sometimes swim in it, and sometimes it washes over like a storm wave. Allow time to weather the storm. Then, when you want to try writing, ask a lot of “what if” questions. See inspiring movies. Brainstorm at a retreat. Some ways that helped me.
Karen, I understand. When my mother died, I was exhausted physically and emotionally from watching her decline and caring for her. I thought I would be able to write once the hypervigilance of caregiving was over, but I was in a fog for months. As others have said, I wrote only snippets, phrases or single sentences that didn’t go together. Some I used later; others I didn’t. And after months of frustration, I gave myself permission to not write, which took the pressure off. Take time to grieve. It’s a process that can’t be rushed or ignored. The ability to write will return in time. Blessings to you.
Praying for peace and continued healing in your life, Karen.
Some days when it’s extra foggy, I set a timer and write until the timer goes off (15 minutes, or 30), not worrying about what I’m writing at all. Usually the process of translating thought to paper clears some of the fog.
But if there’s been an unusually emotional or spiritually taxing event, sometimes I take a week off and rest/pray. I may be wrong, but I believe that much of our creativity comes from the same place our joy does. If we’re not spiritually vibrant, and well-rested in the Spirit, we’re stifled and near-sighted creatively. And it can be very self-destructive, I believe, to try to be content-manufacturers when we’re not healthy spiritually and emotionally. Our primary purpose for existing is to worship God and enjoy him forever. Writing is a secondary calling. It’s important, but not as important as our spiritual health.
I’m so sorry to hear about your dad. I pray God draws you ever closer to Him and gives you comfort.
When I find I’m in a fog, I usually step away from writing for a few weeks. Then I take out my personal journal and write about all the emotions/feelings I’m bombarded with. Though the process hurts, writing it all down is a release for me.
I agree with so many of the posts here that suggest it is ok, necessary, to rest in Him sometimes. We seek Him for answers when we can’t clearly hear what He wants us to write about, but sometimes His answer is that He wants us to curl up on His lap and rest and heal. Because your grief is no ordinary fog.
At a recent speakers seminar I heard Charles Stanley say that often, when he can’t come up with a message to speak, he will go off to pray and end up falling asleep. But he discovered that almost every time he woke up, there was a message there inside of him. So now when he’s stuck he asks God to put him to sleep so He can place that message in him. Sometimes God really does do all the work Himself! 😉
Like was already said in these comments, our primary purpose is worshiping God and seeking to be in His presence. Let Him give you rest for now, and the words will come.
Karen, in 1998, when my dad died suddenly and unexpectedly at the age of 62, I was so overwhelmed with funeral arrangements and caring for my baby and toddler sons that I couldn’t even write in my journal until four months later. What cleared the fog for me was a walk through freshly fallen snow on our then country property. I stopped halfway down our driveway and asked God why my heart was as heavy as the snow laden branches around me. As I stood still and listened, I realized I was in a season. The snow would soon melt and the branches would again rise toward the sky. I too would feel able to lift my hands and heart in praise of the God who walked the valley with me. I suggest nature therapy as much and as often as necessary. It always gives me something to write—even if it takes awhile before I can put it in ink.
Healing Blessings ~ Wendy
Wendy, this is so good. Nature therapy is what works for me, too. And to remember there are seasons for everything. To let ourselves rest when we need it. Grief takes a certain toll and needs more rest than we can sometimes give.
Blessings!
Thank you, Bonnie. Yes, grief is grueling. I know God warned us of hard times; but I honestly detest those sad-news phone calls. But I’m learning to run sooner into my Father’s arms rather than suffer alone. The Lord lives up to His name of Comforter when I allow Him to; however, as you inferred, there are no shortcuts in grief. Blessings & nice to meet you.
May God continue to bring you comfort and His presence!
I faced this exact challenge when my husband died in February of this year. And I had a writing deadline in June! I discovered that there were a few hours each morning when my mind had enough creative energy to make progress writing. I dedicated those hours to writing, and I met my deadline. I also found the writing to be a wonderful expression of God’s grace to me. I was able to accomplish something – however small – most days and that verified to me that God still had a job for me to do, that He was still working in my life. I pray the same for each writer struggling in the fog.
Hi Karen,
Thank you for sharing. Grief takes time. For me, when I had times of grief and fog writing I often took pen to paper and poured out my prayer through the written word. For some reason, pen and paper instead of keybord and computer was the key to unlocking my thoughts and emotions. From those written prayers, have come blog post ideas, and article ideas. Had I sat down at the computer to write those prayers I don’t think the emotions would have flowed as freely.
Give yourself space and time to grieve. Years ago, it was mandatory to grieve for a year. Sit at His feet, rest, read the Word, and the writing will pour out from Him in due time. When you look back over your father’s years, isn’t life brief?
Karen give yourself a break. I couldn’t write at all for a while after my husband died. And the legalities and paperwork took up a lot of my time. Grief is difficult, but if we couldn’t grieve we couldn’t love. We’d be just like black widow spiders that eat their mates. I won’t stop praying for you.
I’m praying for you, Karen. Saying goodbye in this world is so hard even when we expect to say hello again in the next.
My dad died of cancer in 1990. It still hurts sometimes, but there were several things that helped me keep functioning during the three weeks at the end and in the months that followed.
I kept working hard on the things I was already committed to getting done. Others depended on me completing my part. My dad taught me to fly-fish, cut up a tree with an ax, and always, always keep my word when someone was counting on me. I honored him by living up to his standard. Even as he was dying in the hospital and I was burning vacation to be there (praying it wouldn’t run out too soon), he approved of me working mornings and being at the hospital afternoons and evenings with him.
I worked on something that heavily engaged my brain. While I was focused on that, I didn’t feel the sadness. My work was very left-brain and analytical, not right-brain and artistically creative. Maybe if the right-brain isn’t so easy for you right now, focusing on some more left-brain-type writing would get you past the fog and into the clear again. But maybe it doesn’t have to be left-brain analytical. During a recent period of grief, I was able to totally block it by working on my historical fiction because I get so totally sucked into my fictional world as I write. Maybe writing on a novel instead of a blog will do that for you, too.
I set a particular time and place during the day when I let myself cry my heart out. For me, it was on the interstate as I drove home from work. As I headed up the ramp at the edge of town, I gave myself permission to let it all out. (Traffic wasn’t heavy back then, and I’m a good multitasker anyway.) Every time I felt the grief rearing up during the day at work, I reminded myself I’d let it all our later. Then I could refocus and keep working without the grief paralyzing me.
I frequently reminded myself it was bye for now, not goodbye. Dad loved Jesus. The image I held was of him being in the Australian outback without a phone; now we’d say no cell service. I can’t talk with him now, but I’ll see him later.
Funny thing about Christian grief. We really do grieve differently than those who don’t know the Lord. A little over a year after Dad died, a friend at work told me how impressed he was with how I went through Dad dying. I was able to tell him how Jesus makes that possible. So who knows what seeds we sow even when we are hurting and don’t think about sowing anything?
I write by grace! Thick fog may indicate the need for self care. I give myself permission to do what might be indicated. A nap. A therapy session. A walk. A moment of playing the piano, the cello. Painting a picture. If I am fighting a deep fog, when these brilliant ideas hit, I step back from sentences. I will open a doc. and jot down ideas, phrases, keywords, emotions. Then, I save it and walk away. Sentences are too high an expectation for foggy periods, especially grief. If a commercial plane can’t find Sea Tac airport in the fog, why would we expect to find something as evasive as the perfect word? Words will come, especially if the ideas have been hidden away.
I agree with Brennan: when grief or stress or life crowds out my creative juices, I have learned to “look away” … by leaving the computer, planting a posey, indulging my foodie tendencies, walking on the beach, a nap on my garden lounger. I find whatever form of play, work or rest that seems to nourish my spirit the most while I rest with the Lord and reconnect again with the passion that fuels my writing. I do write in these times, but not towards any purpose, just freely journaling. Like Charles Stanley, when I stop staring hard at a writing task and look away, the inspiration will bubble up in my spirit very soon, most often upon arising in the morning when the Spirit finds it easier to expand in my uncluttered mind.
Dear Karen, I’m sorry for your loss. All if us here are remembering you and your family in our thoughts and prayers.
I find reflective moments to be of comfort during times of loss. For me, nature or a quiet space will draw me into a place where I can write while in the fog. But my writing is quieter because my soul is subdued as it works through the emotional and spiritual elements that now accompany me. My one published book was written during a time of great grief and sorrow in my life. I was seeking God for answers and would drive to a lookout point overlooking a canyon to sort it out. It was a place where I could relax, reflect, pray, and rejuvenate. It provided a serene womb for God’s healing grace.
Grief comes in waves. C. S. Lewis described that feeling so well in “A Grief Observed.” You don’t feel like yourself yet you are yourself as you go through the motions of everyday living.
Thank you for writing and sharing with us. God bless you.
It has been said that the ones who leave us are the happy ones and those of us left behind are the ones who grieve. Everyone grieves differently and for different reasons. The effects are different, too.
Before I write, I pull up a scripture thought on the internet. Sometimes all I can think of is a piece of the verse that represents how I’m feeling that day. But I type it in the search engine and –tada!–the entire passage pops up. My lows come from other things because my parents have been gone a long time–but the fog still comes and finding inspiration in the midst of pain is not easy.
Lines from songs you and your dad sang together will come up if you type them. Let praise for the One who guards your soul fill your mind and heal your heart.
God bless you in your time of mourning. Grief is a human emotion that we must all yield to at some time in our lives. After my Mother of blessed memory died I wrote, wrote, wrote…prayers. I placed all my words before the throne of God. I also walked my dogs for miles in beautiful woods.
I discovered that a physical issue, especially pain is something quite different from grief. I required a 14 hour surgery with almost a 10 month recovery, then I had another 8 hour surgery with a 6 month recovery. The second surgery resulted in a life-threatening complication. Prior to surgery I was at the apex of my writing journey, talking to and editor, participating in two critique groups, and excited about my book. I attempted to pick up my writing and forge forward. I was not successful, therefore I became severely depressed. I believed I had failed myself, my family, and my supporters. After several months I believe God led me to accept, “Not now, Belinda. It will happened, just not now.” I accepted this prompting and proceed to focus on recovery from health problems.
So I surmise, difficulties writing are natural. While it is important to “push forward,” sometimes it is more important to love oneself while God’s healing grace covers all.
Karen
I get the fog. I went through it when I lost my dad and brother. I’m so sorry for your loss.
Music helped. Clair de Lune stirred my emotions, until I was grateful they could spill out in written form.
Until then, remember God does glorious work through times of grief.
Blessings to you,
deb
Dear Karen, I am sending you a hug. Grief is a heavy burden, so please be kind to yourself. I lost a son to PTSD and suicide last year, and for eight months, I couldn’t write more than a paragraph at a time. So if all you can manage is a paragraph, rejoice in that. Also, when my father died suddenly, I sat down at my treadle sewing machine and pieced a quilt in one week. The rhythm of the treadle, the blending of colors helped heal my writing self. So, if you dabble in some other art form, allow yourself to participate in that joy and see if it helps your writing. May God bring you healing and peace.
Hey Karen,
I’m so very sorry about your dad. Whispering a prayer now.
Yes, I’m quite familiar with the fog. What helps me the most is to take a break–do anything other than write. Cook, walk through an antique store, read. Somehow it gives room in my heart and mind for fresh inspiration.
Love the honesty in this post.
Julie
The fog is a plague I know too well…
I’m sending a teary prayer that the God of hope keep you happy and full of peace as you trust in Him. Amen.
Given that we write to help others, I often find a solitary spot, let the words, though nonsensical, dance on the page, then tear them. I read novels, I ask God for a particular Scripture – even when I’m uncertain of my ability to hear Him – and I sleep.
But then, I haven’t had a dad pass away yet, at least not literally.
Certain you’d come out brighter, Karen.
When I’m having a hard time focusing on writing, I go for a walk with a notebook and pen (instead of my usual canine companion or my camera). As I walk, look, and think, turns of phrases and sparks of ideas come into my brain, and I write them down. When I get back to my computer, I usually have something I can turn into a poem, an article, or a chapter.
HI Karen:
Condolences on the death of your dad. I remember when my mom died two years ago after a 6 week illness. It was such a shock. I still get teary-eyed when I walk past her picture. Happily, we do not grieve as those without hope.
When Mom and a good friend both died after brief illnesses, I actually started writing. I found putting words on my computer screen helped me feel better because what I was writing was geared towards helping those who were trying to get back to the new normal of life following the death of a loved one. Suddenly Single was born out of pain. I pray that you can find peace at this difficult time and that the Lord will bring many fond memories to mind in the coming days.
Karen, I was in a grief support group for a while and found it helpful. The difference between members who had no faith and those who did was HUGE! As Christians we know we’ll be with our loved ones again eventually, and that is extremely important.
I’m so sorry for your loss. My prayers to you and your family.
Karen,
I am sorry about your dad. My dad passed away years ago, and I still miss him. Please accept my sympathy.
Give yourself time and space. Grieving is a difficult and sometimes scary process that cannot and should not be rushed. After my dad died, I thought I heard his voice in a nearby room. Some days I was fine, until I heard or saw something that reminded me of him, then the grief hit hard. Sometimes I heard about something and I thought, “Oh, I’ll tell Dad.” Then I’d remember that he wasn’t around to tell. As you mentioned, I also experienced a disturbing lack of focus. There were times I was afraid I was going crazy.
This world demands that we keep going, and we do need to tend to some things. But we also need to give ourselves some slack, to accept that the fog is there and not push ourselves too hard. Though the world may not understand, God does. The more we reach out to Him, the more He can help us. As another person here commented, this is a season. No one can say how long it will last, but it will not stay. The fog will lift.
Blessings to you, and thank you for your honesty.
Karen,
Your inability to write is certainly understandable and viewed through a grief lens. When I’m sad or in a writing slump, I gravitate to and find strength in the Psalms and/or writing poetry. From there, am able to plod through other writing projects. Continued prayers for you and the family.
My thoughts and prayers are with you.
I have recently experienced the ‘fog’ myself. I was totally depleted–mentally and physically. Grief is a necessary process but it truly zaps the body of energy. I don’t know about other people but when I am physically drained I can’t write–well, nothing worthy of sharing with others anyway. For me I find lots of time in prayer and reading, instead of writing, help. I also try to do other creative things–adult coloring books are great, relaxing tool. Write down topic ideas when they come to you but let yourself take a break if you can.
You will continue to be in my thoughts and prayers
Ah, Karen. I do so want to put my arms around you and hold you close in God’s love. Grief does sink a fog around us sometimes. You have volumes of good advice in the prior comments, so I really have nothing more to add.
That said, however, I’ll add just this. Write anything. You can always edit anything, but you can’t edit nothing.
Praying still and always.
Karen,
i know what’s like to lose someone you love so dearly and my heart goes out to you. l pray you’ll feel the hugs and prayers of all those who live and care for you I can relate to the fog and not being able to concentrate or focus on writing or anything thing else. sometimes we just need time to heal and soak up God’s word and his love. Love and time work together like the gears in a clock,.. they automatically click into place , one moment at a time. after i lost a dear friend, i didn’t write anything for months, Then one day out of the blue, i started a journal, the words poured out of me like a flood., and i broke through the fog. Be patient with yourself hang on to God asnd he’ll help you through it.
Like so many here, I’ve lost my father after a long illness, too. He struggled with cancer for several years and we spent two Christmas’s at the hospital with him. We were blessed to have him as long as we did; he died just 23 days short of his 95th birthday.
I know the fog very well. All these ideas are great, especially giving yourself time to grieve. But for those days when you have to produce, free-writing has really helped me. I usually start on my knees (literally) in prayer, giving the post to Him who made me. Then read my Bible and devotions. After that, I just give myself permission to write whatever comes to mind. Using a pen and paper is sometimes more helpful than a keyboard.
But if my mind is still blank, I’ll just hand-write one of the Bible verses, meditating on it as I write. Sometimes just the act of writing, even if it’s copying a verse, will free up my mind to create.
I hope that helps. You’re in my prayers.