A Writer’s Retreat, of sorts.
So, Adam was off in Death Valley this weekend, bachelor-ing it up with some soon-to-be-wed buddies, talking about how awesome it is to be married (’cause that’s what guys talk about on Boy Weekends, right?) in-between gnawing on hunks of red meat, getting caught in sandstorms and going shirtless.
I was home for a drizzly few days all by myself, and I decided that it’s been a while since I sat down and wrote just for me – not marketing copy or blogs or HTML or Facebook stuff, but my stories and hopes and maybe even entries to a writing contest or two.
It was a cold, grey weekend – perfect for hunkering down with a giant mug of coffee and waxing eloquent – and for the most part, it was really wonderful. I need a few hours of quiet to re-focus and let my poor, squished muse take a breath. After a couple of days of this treatment, I had some rather obvious realizations:
- I thrive on quiet reflection. Turning off the radio, leaving a grocery list unshopped for a day or two or just forcing myself to stop worrying and over-achieving for a few hours is exactly what my soul needs.
- Writing is HARD. (Everyone who’s ever tried to write anything gaffaws and points at me.) I feel like I lived up to the old saying about bleeding on the page… and most of what I wrote this weekend is probably rubbish anyway.
- But, despite the crummy nature of what I wrote this weekend – I don’t want to only write things that turn a profit for me or come easily to me. I want to write stories that matter, the little slices of life that I am called uniquely to tell.
I realize that I underestimate the power of a dream – of knowing what I love to do and having the freedom to do it. Sometime on Saturday afternoon I was slapped with the realization that yes, running my own business is hard work, but holy cow, I get to write at work! And I get to go to conferences with other nerdy, lovable people and DO about things that I love and not just dream about them.
I had a great little writer’s retreat in my living room, hugging a cup of coffee, watching artsy/informative films that Adam would hate and reading books outside when my fingers got tired of typing. I’ve made a resolution to do mini escapes like this more often, even if for only a few minutes – to write something personal on the blog or read something inspiring. I’m blessed to be getting closer and closer to my dreams, if only I can look up from my day-to-day long enough to embrace it and be grateful for it.
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