From Dictionary.com:


[hahy-ey-tuhs] Show IPA
noun, plural -tus·es, -tus.
1. a break or interruption in the continuity of a work, series,action, etc.
2. a missing part; gap or lacuna: Scholars attempted toaccount for the hiatus in the medieval manuscript.
3. any gap or opening.
4. Grammar, Prosody . the coming together, with or withoutbreak or slight pause, and without contraction, of twovowels in successive words or syllables, as in see easily.
5. Anatomy . a natural fissure, cleft, or foramen in a bone orother structure.


What is a hiatus?  A hiatus, in basic terms, is a pause in what you're doing.

Many people consider a hiatus to be a week, or a month, or even six months.

For me, it's been much longer, and so much more than a pause.  So much so, that I'm not convinced that "hiatus" describes where I've been these past few years.

The truth is, I feel the powerful need to write each and every day.  Sometimes, I feel lost without it.  But I don't.

Let's be honest - I burned out at the end of 2008 on blogging.  I blogged every day for an entire year.  By 2009, I was getting ready for a wedding, preparing to sell a house (and later buying another), and I even took a temporary promotion at work.  In 2010, I spent some of my year drugged up and sitting on the couch with little of the solitary time I needed to spin some words together.  I was more concerned with the fact that I couldn't walk than the fact that I couldn't write.  And so, 2008 may have been the last time I could have blogged every day for a year, as a full mix of family and professional life makes it seem unattainable in 2011.  Between burning out and having a full plate, I haven't blogged much in three years.  For a short while, I was at least writing outside of the blog, but that also did not last very long.

Why is it that something I feel an irresistible draw to can be so hard to attain?

The answer isn't easy.  And honestly, it does nothing to alleviate my internal sense of failure at something I absolutely love doing.  The only solution is to go forth and write.

But I keep saying that.  I keep coming on here, saying I'm going to write, and even if I stick to it for a short while, I never follow through.

I feel like I've gained some new perspective, however.  Spending eight months at home because of an injury gives you a lot of time to think.  But trying to return to the life I lived before the injury has proven to be equally epiphanic.

Work had moved on.  Friends on the fringe of my life faded away.  I found myself with a lot more gray hairs, and questions about my ability to continue my job on a long-term basis without causing myself more harm.  I came back to work with an eagerness to move forward, only to find myself light years behind and with more challenges than when I left.  So much has changed.

Now, more than ever, I'm drawn to my need to write.  I'm pulled into my desire to express myself and exercise my creativity.  If for no other reason than for my own sanity.  The world outside of my home has changed too much to accept some of it's realities, and writing allows me to escape for just a short while.

Ultimately, I'm back to saying I'm going to write more.  I can't make any promises for the blog.  I don't know that I'll write "that novel" that keeps bouncing around in my head.  But I will try to make time for writing.  I will put effort into it.  If I don't, I might as well accept the new reality of my career, physical limitations, and the world outside of my home and allow my creativity to fade away.

I'm just not willing to do that.