The lull

When your creative lifeblood stalls and your work is contingent on creative passion

For months I’ve been in a lull. Lackluster, amorphous, floating undirected in a great sea of blah. It’s not the vacant blah of “is anyone home up there?” I’ve been there before. This is not that. This has a different quality to it.

The image I have is of someone who is deep underneath the ocean, sitting cross-legged on the sandy seafloor, looking up at the surface from down below. I see the glistening sunlight up above. But I can’t muster enough interest, desire, or will-force to swim up and explore it.

Photo by Ali Abdul Rahman on Unsplash

Now this poses a problem for my mind because my mind has a lot of ideas about this phase I’m in. I’m doing my best not to listen to its unhelpful thoughts. But my mind is doing its best to make sure I’m aware of them nonetheless:

“Um hello—you said you were going to create more offerings and classes for your community . . .”

“you know, Diomira, if you don’t start sharing . . . like yesterday, then everything is going to come apart at the seams. It’s all going to unravel.”

“If you keep this up, you’re not going to have a community to serve. And then you won’t fulfill your purpose.”

Okay I know all the above isn’t true.

Usually.

Actually my mind and I have a tally going. Some days I win. These are the days I thank it for sharing and go back to starring at the sunlight trickling into the sea of my mind from my comfortably seated position on the ocean floor, confident that I am in a process of deep metamorphosis. I’m caterpillar soup and that’s okay.

I gently remind myself: You’ve been in the unknown before and “this too shall pass”, says the Law of Rhythm.

Other days, the limiting belief whispers of my mind increase in volume, and finally score a point. All it takes is one night of interrupted sleep or too many hours spent on a screen and I feel my nerves stretch thin, my brain scrambles with fog, and my usually solid resolve weakens. That’s when the mind, having detected the chink in my energy, takes aim and hits its target. Bullseye!

On those days, the stress and concern threaten to swallow me whole:

What if I never become enraptured by another creative idea again?

And by the way, for anyone reading this whose work is born of your Soul, you know that creativity and passion is our life blood. It’s what fuels what we share. In my case that is my prolific writings, books, classes, and offerings on flower essence medicine, relationship with the spirit realm of nature, soul healing, astrological cycles, Earth Mysteries, mythic enchantment, sacred sites, and land spirit attunement.

This work has always been powered by my creative heart and my passionate love affair with the Otherworld and the spiritual ecology of Earth.

As a Libra, I can see the both/and of most situations, including my own:

My objective Soul lens says, “Relax, you’re incubating. This fallow period is 100% necessary for your soul health. It’s perfectly natural.”

My human on the other hand is yelling, “Mayday! Mayday! Why am I not creating?”

When I shared about my conundrum with a friend, she had the most brilliant suggestion, “Write about the lull.”

You know when someone says something that resonates, and it’s not just your mind that thinks, “Yeah, that’s a good idea. I’ll try that” but your whole soul perks up and chimes a bell across the realms, hoping to heaven you’ll hear it in your fog-induced doldrum?

Just in case I needed emphasis, that’s when the wind picked up outside. (Seriously, we have a wind advisory that started today!)

So I want to thank my friend April for inspiring me to write about the lull. I hope some of you will relate to this creative void.

BTW I’m not looking for advice or your psychoanalysis of my process—however, well meaning they may be. What I would LOVE to hear about is your own experiences of the lull. Please share in the comment section. You can also hit reply, but we can play and converse together as a community when we use the comment section.

Creatively or uncreatively yours,

Diomira

P.S. I know many of you are used to reading these messages in your email. But I really want to encourage you to come over to the Substack app or simply click the comments or title to read these articles on the Substack platform. That’s where you can connect with me in the comments and we can actually have conversations. It’s fun!

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Soul Healing, Remembrance & Working Together

As mentioned above, classes, programs, events, and group offerings are on pause as I incubate and languish in the void.

However, I am in full flourishing with offering 1:1 support.

Photo by Kieran Murphy on Unsplash

Flower Essence Soul Sessions

I have four spots for Flower Essence Soul Sessions for the rest of the month, then my next opening is not until the very end of May.

I’ve updated the description to more clearly and succinctly communicate this offering and the magickal alchemy that takes place.

You can scroll to the bottom of the page to read some of the testimonials from clients who have worked with me. Here’s two excerpts from two clients’ testimonials:

“As I came to the end of my third month, I truly felt as if I had morphed into someone else. I have come to a point of remembering who I am, of walking into fears of the unknown, standing in my own truth, not playing small and trusting myself. I am not the same person I was when I started this journey. I truly feel the flower essences are a part of me now.”

- Rosemary Q Nichols

“The essence potion she [Diomira] weaved just for me has brought profound change to my life. I am peaceful and calm. I feel held, whole and complete at a time of upheaval and uncertainty in my life. I’m able to return to those states of being no matter what occurs now or in the future.”

- Cissy Lenakos