I Will

10 Oct

One of the gifts that my husband’s new job gave us was the ability for me to be home for a bit.  We don’t know how long  yet.  But it gave me the gift of time.  Being a special needs parent, even just a mother to three means I rarely had me time.  Even reading was usually done with a kid on my lap watching Netflix, I would zone out within my game apps just to focus inward and try to steal moments of inner reflection and quiet.  I was exhausted.  I adore my family, but as a strong introvert I craved quiet.

But now I have three hours a day when my kids are at school.  Last week being the first week in our new house I used those hours to unpack or do laundry and try to get as much accomplished as I could.  But by Friday I realized how counterproductive that was.  The main goal of my “me time” was for me to relax.  To do something I wanted to do and for so long that one things has been writing.  That day I had a lunch date with my husband and then I tackled it.

I enrolled myself in an online course on writing a novel.  I’ve never written one.  I’ve drafted a few starts, I have many plots fighting in my brain, but I’ve never had the uninterrupted time to actually draft them.  But…I do now.  That’s my “it.”  The novel inside that I want to write.  Always have.

I’ve psyched myself out many times writing, thinking “sure I can blog, but how hard is that?”  It’s me drafting my thoughts.  It’s what I say in my brain or sometimes don’t say out loud.  I am hard on myself, so I’ll read what I wrote and hit “delete” not even giving that chapter or start a fair shot.  I compare my writing to some of the incredibly talented friends I have and think no one would read it, why bother until I can write something better?

But that’s not what it needs to be.  That’s not what I need to do.  I just need to write.  All weekend long I was able to enjoy my time with my family.  And this morning I was able to do the mundane housework (and unpack a few more boxes) knowing that after 11:15 I would have my time.  It’s my “me time” and all I wanted to do was write.  That’s saying something there.

Passion.  While I wanted to write, I was stuck and unable to find the time.  I gave myself bits of time here and there, but not enough.  Not nearly enough.  So I am holding myself accountable for writing.  And that blank screen isn’t going to stay blank.  I bought this silly little laptop to fulfill my dream of writing.  I can and I will do it.  I will draft a novel.  Whether it stays in my laptop or is added to the boxes of my old work from my college years, that’s okay.  I’m doing it.  I’m writing.  And I’m loving it.

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