This week I sat down to write and came up empty. Nothing but a blinking cursor staring back at me.

And for those of you who know me from my classes, I never really have a lack of things to say, thoughts to share or questions to ask. And yet I found myself looking at the cursor blinking on a blank page, wondering about what to write.

My husband, ever the pragmatist, said, “Write about that - why you don’t have inspiration.” Cue my eye roll. But I decided to follow the thread.

And it turns out I had a lot to say about not having a lot to say.

At the root of it: my cup was empty. Poured out by both the heavy things and the good things.

Last week was a lot - a collective dumpster fire, plus the September 11th anniversary. And on top of that, I’ve been pouring my heart into bringing a new course to life. Exciting, but draining. No wonder my cup felt tipped over.

If last week were a tarot card, it’d be the Ace of Cups reversed - emptied out, waiting to be refilled.

For me, refilling meant a nap and some time in nature. A walk at World’s End on Friday. A new beach on Sunday. Nothing fancy, just getting outside helped me reset.

An empty cup showed up as a lack of inspiration. For you, it might look different - exhaustion, overwhelm, distraction, maybe something else entirely. But whatever form it takes, it’s pointing to the same thing: it’s time to refill before you give more of yourself to everyone else.

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