I Don’t Want to Write Just Because It’s Sunday

Dear Friends,

I almost didn’t write anything this week.

It’s not that I don’t care about Soul Letters. Actually, I might care about it a bit too much.

The truth is, I care enough not to write just because it’s Sunday.

For the past few days, I kept thinking about the question:

What does my soul want?

I even thought this question would be the focus of this week’s Letter. I planned to sit down, reflect on it, and share something meaningful with you.

But nothing came.

Honestly, I don’t know what my soul wants right now. I don’t think I’ve been quiet enough to hear it.

A lot is happening in my life right now. I’m facing several challenges at once. There are decisions I need to make about different parts of my life and future.

I spend a lot of time thinking about everything, trying to figure things out and make good choices, all while keeping up with what needs my attention.

And I’m tired.

It’s more than just being tired.

I feel overwhelmed.

This week, I realized I’ve been treating almost everything in my life as just another problem to solve.

Including Soul Letters.

What should I write about this week?

Should I keep writing every week?

Should something change?

Am I doing enough?

What comes next?

I can definitely ask a lot of questions. I’m very good at asking questions.

I’m also good at trying to answer questions before the answers are actually ready.

If you’ve ever tried to think your way into an answer that wasn’t ready yet, you probably know this feeling.

Sometimes life hands us a problem, and there’s something we need to do about it.

But sometimes we push ourselves to find answers just because not knowing feels uncomfortable.

We need a plan.

We demand to know what’s next.

We want to feel as though we’re doing something.

I’ve started to wonder if all my efforts to figure things out are actually making it harder to hear any answers.

That brings me back to Soul Letters.

I’ve been writing Soul Letters every week for more than a year.

That still surprises me. Honestly, it surprises me a lot.

What started as something unknown turned into something I never could have imagined when I began writing.

Thousands of women found their way here.

You’ve written about your marriages and divorces, your grief, your loneliness, new beginnings, your aging bodies, dreams you thought you’d lost, the parts of yourselves you’re trying to find again.

You’ve made me laugh.

You’ve made me cry.

Sometimes someone writes, “I thought I was the only one,” and then another woman answers, “Me too.”

These moments matter to me.

You matter to me.

This is why I need to be honest now.

Somewhere along the way, something that means so much to me started to feel like just another thing I had to keep up with.

Sunday comes every seven days whether or not I have something to say.

Lately, with everything else happening in my life, I’ve found myself struggling to keep that promise.

And I don’t want to do that to myself anymore.

I don’t want to do that to Soul Letters.

I would rather miss a Sunday than write something simply because I’m afraid not to.

So I’m going to give myself some room.

To breathe.

To be still.

To listen.

I need time to look at Soul Letters and my life without rushing to decide what to do next.

I think very little will change.

Maybe quite a lot will.

I might write less often. The letters might be simpler or a little bit less polished. Maybe I’ll try out different writing styles.

Or maybe, after a little time and space, I’ll want to return to what I’ve been doing.

I really don’t know.

For now, not knowing is the most honest answer I can give you.

So if a Sunday comes and there’s no new letter from me, please don’t take my silence as a lack of caring.

I haven’t forgotten about this space.

I certainly haven’t forgotten about you.

I’m just trying not to fill every uncertain moment with more activity.

There’s more than a year’s worth of posts here, and many of you have joined us recently. You might enjoy looking back through the archive.

There may be a letter you missed.

There might be one you read months ago that feels different to you now.

I love that about words.

Sometimes words wait quietly until we’re ready for them.

And maybe that’s true of answers too.

Some answers can’t be chased down.

Maybe answers need some space to find us.

So I’m going to attempt something that’s not particularly easy for me.

I’m going to stop trying so hard to know what comes next.

If you’re in a season of not knowing too, you can give yourself the same grace.

We don’t need to have the answers today.

Maybe for now, it’s enough to make a little room for whatever wants to come next.

And listen.

With you, always, in the pause,

Katherine
Soul Letters

What are you trying to figure out right now that might need a little room instead?