I lost my mojo....

While this is a place where I primarily share plant-based food content and recipes, I am also a writer, and sometimes this is a space for me to share that writing.

So, gentle reader, I hope you will indulge me just for a minute, in some non-food related content.

You see, I find myself quite lost right now.

Eight months ago, I lost my last remaining parent, my dad. He had just turned 93, and he died of good, old-fashioned, old age. For the past few years he has lived in a care home, with me and my brothers being his primary source of support. We’d make sure one of us went to see him in such a way so that he had someone checking in on him pretty much every day of the week.

There are two things I want to say about this: first, this was really hard. I live a full hour’s drive away from where my dad was living, so, for me, it was a 2 hour drive. On top of that, and I know I’m not saying anything revelatory here, but it is very difficult to watch your beloved parent slowly disappear right in front of you. There is a background hum of worry that never goes away, a little voice in your brain that’s constantly asking “is he okay?” 24/7. This burden was immensely heavy, but I love my dad, and he’s done so much for me in my life, there was never any question as to wether or not I would do it.

So when my dad finally left this world, the relief was immense. Not just relief for myself and the fact that this immense burden was lifted, but also for my dad, as by the time he died, he was so tired and ready to go. It was a relief to not have to watch him suffer any more.

But then came the grief rushing in.

I still miss him so much, despite years of preparing myself for this time. And there’s not really much I can do about it. Eight months later, I still feel very raw and very sad, and I really miss him so much.

In 2024 I took a year-long program at SFU called The Writer’s Studio. My goal for the year was to write the first draft of a novel—something I’d never done before, despite being a writer my whole life, and having two published books. My goal was to write 80,000 words. I was around 56,000 the day my dad died, and I have not written a word since.

It feels like the day my dad died, my mojo and creativity died, too.

Have you seen my creative spark? Photo by Natalia Tabarez on Unsplash

There’s more than that—since my dad died, I’m in a different space in my life. My kid, who turns 22 later this week, no longer needs me in the way he used to. My dad is gone. For the first time in more than 23 years, I am my #1 priority. And that’s weird. And exciting. Because I can be or do anything I want now, but what is that? I have no idea.

Last week, I taught my last class of the spring/summer semester at BCIT. For the first time since 2007, I have zero freelance clients. I have no work for the next two months, till classes start again in September. I have a little nest egg I saved up that I’ll be living on for the summer.

I don’t know where my mojo is, but my plan to get it back is to not look for it. My plan, which sounds pretty counterintuitive, is to do nothing. My plan is to read all the Carley Fortune novels (and any other novel—I just finished The Wedding People and boy it was good), go to the pool, maybe take a road trip. My goal is to not think about these big questions as much as possible. I want to ride my bike and explore new ways of being creative. I want to pet my cat, discover new thrift stores, and make salads with the greens in my garden.

I just want to breathe.

I’m hoping if I just take a little break—if I rest—that my mojo will come back to me naturally. Of course, I run the risk of losing momentum and never finding it again, but what I think I need the most right now, is a break.

I recently read Laziness Does Not Exist by Devon Price, and it’s convinced me that this is what I need. Soooo… wish me luck. Both in my healing, and in my search for my lost creative spark. Here’s hoping there are still embers burning somewhere.