Writing, I do it and I love it.
When I was younger I wrote. A lot. While my friends were off drinking and partying, I was writing. Some may say that I wasted my teenage years. I beg to differ. I think fondly on all those hours spent writing.
Well, the adventure of life goes on! I found an amazing man who became my husband and writing became far less important than hanging out with him. Then, kids arrived on the scene. Basically everything I’d ever done for me went out the window. Especially things that take a LOT of time. I’m sure some of you understand that.
So for 10 years, I didn’t write. (except for grocery lists and the ABCs) Then a few months back… I had a dream. Now, to clarify, I dream a LOT. It’s a totally weird night for me if I am not having some wild, exciting colorful dream. I’ve actually heard that some people only dream in black and white. Not that this has anything to do with my story… just an interesting fact… or is it? Anyhow, I had this amazing dream and woke up planning to write it down. It wasn’t a long dream but I like to write down the cool ones.
Except that this time was different. Before I could even get it written down, it was growing. Taking on a whole new dimension I hadn’t dreamt of. Thoughts, ideas, words, characters began to flow. It had been so long since I’d written that it took me a half a day to think ‘I should be writing this all down’!
And so it began. The first two days I had 16 pages. It wasn’t (and isn’t) polished, just the flow of ideas comes and I write it. I’m sitting here staring at 68 pages and I realized that I feel a bit like I’ve come home to a piece of me that’s been away.
You know when you go away on vacation and when you step back into your own home you sort of sigh and think ‘It’s so good to be home’. It feels like that.
I don’t regret that I’ve not been writing for the past 10 years. My beautiful family has, and will continue to be, so worth any sacrifice. As a stay-at-home Mom my life is pretty full of what I need to do for others. It’s not a bad thing, but there were years there where I feel I kind of lost some of my individuality. It’s bound to be that kind of crazy with kids. Man oh man, do I love the craziness!!
I learnt fast though that you can’t be wholly selfish any more or the whole package comes apart at the seams. As the kids get older, I have more time and that time can be partially put towards writing. Every moment I write is like a visit from an old friend.
I am grateful that when the time was not right, I didn’t miss writing. I am grateful now that the excitement and enjoyment for writing has come back.
I love that every time I sit down with my laptop to write, I find myself sighing and saying ‘It’s good to be home’.