Month: February 2018

Happy to be writing again

Posted on

This is a simple, happy post.  You know, there is nothing as encouraging as sitting my butt down and clicking away on my keyboard.

There was a time when this was such a hardship. And all I felt was guilt about not being able to write.  The self doubt was also quite real – how ca I be a writer who doesn’t write?  I was also overwhelmed by my inability to give myself over to the thing I loved most.  And of course, my troubled mind is terribly unforgiving.

There’s a reason cliches exist – they are often true.  And well, the one about doing the thing that you are passionate about is right.  Doing the thing that fills me gives me the strength to do the adulting that I should do.

I celebrate the liberty to write because it feeds my soul.  There is a lot I have to do that I must do… and this craft that I long to master like no other, fills me up for the long road that I must travel.

Growth

Posted on

One of my favorite musicians is Damien Rice. He sings from somewhere deep and well, I connect to that.  So in one of my favorite live albums, he talks about recognizing a strong relationship between his creative spirit and depressive state.  I mean, talk about the fringe benefits of melancholia.  He goes on to say that he is unsure of how he would continue touring because he really was not planning on being depressed.  But his audience could identify with what he was saying and there were chuckles all around.

I have been thinking a lot about Damien and this conversation because it speaks to one of the consequences of growth.  Growth means that we shift and move – we go beyond our artificial boundaries of comfort – sometimes, we are literally thrown into places we never thought we could move.  And suddenly, it’s as if this new environment is carrying us – and in my case, shifting my creativity along with it.

Not too long ago, I lived in fear of this experience.  I generally like things I can control – or situations that re-affirm my position of control.  Growth and change have been, in the past, quite difficult for me – maybe it’s all the flux that’s involved – but I think it is mainly the feeling that I needed to walk blindly for a while.

Because I am growing, I am encouraging myself to embrace the idea that I can trust myself to be in any space and to retain my creativity, my drive, and most of all – my self.

I remember when I first got Pooch, my fear was that I would not be a good enough dog parent and worse, that after a few weeks, I would grow tired of this creature that I had brought into my world.  I was surprised when actually my affection for this puppy grew. I was even more surprised when I shifted my lifestyle to accommodate him and all the feelings that I project on him.  (I even went as far as creating little rituals that allow me to feel like Pooch is living his best life, too!).  I was pleasantly surprised to discover that I didn’t lose myself but instead that I expanded – that I was more. I had texture and dimension.

So I guess, for me today, growth is not about discomfort so much as it is about trusting myself.  Trust that I will be carried when I require, that I will expand when I need to, and that I will discover all sorts of pleasures when I allow myself to be more.

I don’t know how growth will shape my creativity as a writer and as a person in this year – but I am sure I will be more. And that is enough.

Sighing heart

Posted on

So today was a good day.  Pooch had a day out and I felt like a good dog parent.  I also woke up early – did my writing – did some work – all in all, I felt like an accomplished human being.

While driving back home – Pooch and I were alone in the car – I turned to look at him.  He had the most searching look in his eyes. I smiled with such tenderness because I felt at once, loved and pitied to no end.  I know I was projecting my feelings on the poor dog but the adoration was real.  And while my heart sighed with the knowledge that my dog really does love me, I felt incredibly alone in this moment.  I had to turn my eyes back on the road – but I silently wondered the last time that a human looked at me the way my dear Pooch did.

I honestly can’t remember.

This made me sad.  Sad because longing is a powerful emotion. Sad because as a romance writer, having a powerful, earthshaking love is par for the course… or in my case, should be part of the deal.  Sad because sometimes it takes a long while for love to circle back around. Sad because I hate having to ask the universe when it will be my turn (because, of course, my love story will be epic-ly laden with kismet and lots of universe conspiring nonsense).

I have to admit – I am feeling a little bit of a pity party coming along – honestly and truly, today was not a good day for my sighing heart.

And so now I will do what every good writer does: I will sit in this feeling because I will remember it again – and maybe it will inspire me when I write.