Transcendence

In many ways, picking up writing again, is like getting back on a bicycle. Sure, you never forget once you learn, but you're probably still a little wobbly and could use some practice before going back out in public.

Perhaps this only happens with me. Nonetheless, that's how it feels. I let my hubby go out for a bit so he could get some "him" time. We both get that rarely, so he took up the offer without much hesitation. The girls then took it upon themselves to play together in their room; and nicely too! 

I was sitting at the computer, thinking of what I wanted to do, and suddenly it came to me: write. Write already! I mean, I've been wanting to for so long. Why not now? So I did.

It took a long to time to get into that place. I turned on some music, tried to figure out where I would write (there is no document software on this computer curently), and then I stared at a blank page.

Within a few moments, I forced myself to type anything that came to mind. Once I was typing, it came to me, and I was writing. Badly, in my opinion, but I didn't care because I was writing again. 

Five minutes later, Megan was asking for her "boppy" which means bottle, and it was bedtime.

By the time I got back, I will be honest that trying to get back into that mindset felt a bit daunting. But that is part of being a parent, and it's something I will have to keep working at until I can slip into the mindset whenever I need it. It will take time, but it will come.

It felt great, by the way. Like coming home after an extremely long day.

How does writing feel to you? 

On the Other Side of the Coin

Gaps mean life is happening.  Shhhh, don't disturb it because I love experiencing life.

So much has changed since November.  I'm not sure if I mentioned beforehand, but I worked as a temp back in November.  A job opened up and three weeks later, the job was over.  After that, I didn't work for about a month until another posting came up.  With that position, I was commuting an hour to work (in good weather), and in Michigan (Northern USA, for you non-US peeps), good weather was very hard to come by in January.

I hated the position.  I hated the commute.  The job was boring, with little to nothing to do.  All that kept me going was my commitment to a friend that I would be at that job.  And the money was more than a little needed.

I hated that job so much, I cried after a week while at work.  I just didn't want to do it anymore.  I just didn't know if I could handle the on again, off again status with no vacation, benefits, anything.  And then something more than a little wonderful happened...

I had applied for several jobs over the last year.  More than a few.  I started branching out in October and November when nothing was panning out.  One job was for an Administrative Assistant position for my church in a tiny little town of about 6000 people in East Texas.  I applied.  My sister is planning to move to Texas this year (she still has yet to, but I'm holding her to it), so we wouldn't be too far from family.

I heard nothing, so I assumed the position, like so many others I had applied for, was gone.

I was at the end of my rope in late January.  All the schooling, hard work, everything that I had done didn't seem to be taking me anywhere.  I prayed so much that month.  I prayed for someone, anyone to give me a chance.  I guess Heavenly Father decided to give me that chance because the day I had to turn around after 3 hours of trying to get to work, to no avail (and I had to eat all that money in gas)... that day, I received a call from a thick Texan-accented man who wanted to arrange a phone interview.

It was a deer-in-headlights moment.  I wasn't sure if I should even call back.  Texas?! What had I been thinking to apply in Texas?  And a small town in Texas at that?

With some encouragement from my husband, I called back and arranged the interview for the next day during lunch.  The whole thing was nerve-wracking to say the least.

The interview lasted the whole of my lunch and breaks, and then I went back to work.  I got a text about 3 hours after the interview to call the guy back and when I did, on my way out to the car from work, I was offered the job.

I started crying again, in a great and wonderful way.  So my husband and I had a decision to make.  Can you guess what it was?

We moved to Texas, and for a little over three months now, I've been working at my new job.  It has cool things, like a 401K, benefits, a pension plan (I didn't even know they still had those), and vacation and sick time that I could accrue over time.  It's been a crazy and wonderful year so far.

So that, in a nutshell, is where I've been.

Have I been writing?  I've been wanting to.  Desperately, especially now as I'm beginning to get settled in.  I miss it, truly.  On the up side, I've been reading a lot lately.  And I've been spending as much time as I can with my family.

I'm also working on getting back into shape, getting healthier, and getting my energy back to do what I need and want to do.

It's an adventure!  Do I feel I've lost my way in writing?  Not really.  Not really at all.

Why not?  Because life is inspiration.  You can't glean inspiration by doing nothing.  I look at this as my research and development stage.  I see this as my inspiration.  My life, my family.

Even more, I'm happy.  And I think I write better than when I'm not.  And I think I'm more receptive to the world around me, in all its glory.

As for Texas, we love it.  Sure, it's hot right now (actually, fairly mild considering what it normally is), but I feel like I'm home.  Or at least, very close to home, here.

Writing is never better than when you're at home.  At home in your surroundings, at home in your head, at home in your heart.

I'm home.

Anti-Collaboration and a Mess of Epiphanies

So I'm guessing no one cares to ask me anything, or at least, come forward and ask.  That's alright anyway, I'm extremely shy and very protective of my work.  However, I'm ready to begin coming out of my shell. 

It is bugging me that I still have so far to go in my writing journey.  I just sat reading a book written by John Flanagan (The Brotherband Chronicles, book 2: The Invaders), and then I took a break and read some of my short stories.  This included one that was written when I was in a very different place in my life.  I read two or three of them, all the time amazed that not only had I written them, but that I was enjoying them just as thoroughly as when I was reading John Flanagan's words.

Why am I not published yet?  Fear.  That's my answer to myself, and I know it to be true.  I also know that I am now angry at that answer.  I can do this.  I can write, and I've been given a gift to write.  Why am I not sharing it with the world?

I sit and watch Lindsey Stirling, the Piano Guys, Alex Boye, Pentatonix, those harp-playing twins, and all of these gifted people on youtube sharing their talents, their lives, and their happiness at having found their joy and their purpose in life, and I'm jealous.  I'm actually jealous!

I want that!  How come I can't have that?  Fear.  It's not to say that these people never felt that fear.  They most likely did, every one of them.  The difference, though, between them and me: they overcame that fear and put it out there anyway.

It's that saying that comes back to me: the worst they could say is "no."  The worst that anyone can tell me is that they don't like my writing.  Is that really so terrible?  Not really.  You can't please everyone, so you know someone is not going to like what you do. 

Just yesterday, I was listening to J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire on CD as I made my way home from work.  The article about Hagrid's half-giant status had just come out in the paper and Hagrid wanted to resign his post as Care of Magical Creatures teacher.  Dumbledore, ever the wise wizard, said, "Honestly, if you're holding out for  approval, I believe you will be in this cabin for a very long time."

I already know that people aren't going to like it.  However, that doesn't mean there won't be any who do like it.  Even more, there's a chance that people will love it!  So why not take the leap and see if I fly or if I fall? 

So now I just need to finish this book.  There's a simple statement that has a whole lot more weight than you could imagine.

It's all in my head.  I'm halfway there, I just need to keep trekking, or as Dori from Finding Nemo says, "Keep swimming, just keep swimming."

I have short stories that I can try and publish in the meantime.  They may not get me much money, but they might open that door a crack and allow people to see that I'm about to unleash the hounds.

And yes, I have been writing lately.  It's coming along.  I would say it is coming along well, but first drafts never seem to want to come as easily as you think they will.  That is why editing is wonderful, and should never be forgotten.

There is nothing to writing.  All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.  ~Ernest Hemingway