I’m fascinated by my journey into creativity.
When does the mood take me to write? Why? What do I write? How can I make that writing better? When does my critical voice stop being constructive and start to stifle me? When am I the writer I want to be?
This blog has dropped back in prominence for me. It’s still an essential outlet, but when I can make the time to express myself, I want to pour myself into my book. I’m itching to complete an idea within my plot or push my main character into a new layer of complexity. This fictional world that I’m building is growing organically inside of me and I’m compelled to nurture it. I want the expression of any social commentary I may be making to be factually correct, and the description of my imaginary events to be as close to the truth as possible. To fulfill that itch it takes research, time for rumination and the space to adjust my completed words towards a clearer purpose.
I no longer look at what’s going on in my inner and outer life with such an analytical eye. There’s less to say about myself. I’m simply living what’s in front of me. I’ve made my choices and now I’m experiencing them. There’s very little decision making. I’m just being as true to myself as I can on any given day.
Some days I nail it. I arrange a conference call, I follow up on a lead for some paid work, I make some soup, I write a page of my book, I help the girls practice their numbers and handwriting, I have a sense of humour when they spill milk as we eat a family dinner together. What could be better than that?
Other days I feel frustrated that I can’t find five minutes to sit at my desk, I snap at my husband despite his valiant contributions to our life, I question my choice to give up my successful career, I can’t bring myself to talk on the phone, every repetition of my request to put shoes on drains me a little further and I turn on the TV instead of persevering with the engagement of two tired tiny people.
But both of those days have value. The first makes my joyful heart soar and my chest swell with love. Towards the end of the second day I usually pause to reflect on what I need to heal myself and work out how to prioritise my inner energy above all else. From those days I rise stronger and clearer on what I need to be more at peace in the next day.
The sun always rises above that jagged, alpine skyline. Every day it brings the chance to have another go at being me; the opportunity to be true to myself. That journey continues to bring new ideas and insights which move us forward. For that I’m deeply grateful.