And from my front porch. It’s been six weeks since I finished the A to Z Blogging challenge and I’ve only just mentally recovered. I had a blast blogging (almost) every day for the entire month of April…but it took a toll on my introverted nature. So I withdrew for a little while.
In the interim, I finished up another year of work at my other job (I’m on the academic calendar), took a road trip with my kids (we survived!) and asked myself a lot of questions about what I’m doing and why.
My life is less complicated than many, yet I still feel that if I can get to the end of the day without completely sinking, I’m doing okay. Hanging on has become the new goal. Parenting takes a ton of time, not to mention emotional and creative energy. My other job contains its (un)fair share of mental and emotional drains. Then there are the basic tasks of life – food to be bought and prepared, schedules to maintain, workouts and adequate sleep and even time for relaxation.
There’s always just a little too much to do and not quite enough time. For a few brief days in May, I seriously considered dropping the writing bit for awhile. It would free up time and be one less thing to worry about.
I said as much to my husband somewhere along the endless corridors of Indiana and Ohio. “You can’t do that,” he said. “You have stories to tell and the world needs to hear them.” He confirmed a decision I had already come to on my own – nothing (aside from the ones I love) is more important to me than writing.
I may never make a full time living as a writer. I may never publish a novel. (Heck, I may never finish either of the novels I’m currently writing.) I may never earn more than a “oh, that’s nice,” comment and a look of vague concern when I tell people I’m a writer. But writing is important to me. It’s what I’m here on this earth to do.
So what matters is that I do it. I will orient my life around my writing. (I already do this, actually, but sometimes I need a little reminder.) There will always be interruptions and setbacks and things that look like setbacks but aren’t. It will never be perfect, but that’s okay. If nothing else, I’ll have even more fodder for stories and blog posts like this one.
Okay, off to write!