It has been a while since my last post, but to say that I have been busy is an understatement. After making the finishing touches to “27 Revelations” I started working on my marketing strategy, which has not been easy, and on top of that I have been working crazy hours at my day job. In the midst of all this, I also felt that it was time that I started taking life seriously and give myself even more responsibility, so I got a puppy, which at this time was the wrong choice. At times I think she is the spawn of Satan; wherever she goes destruction follows, but I do love her. With all of this I haven’t had any time to myself to think or even write. As I look back on these hectic past two months I ask myself, why did I make my life so complicated?
Why can’t I seem to create any personal space? Even in this moment of writing I can’t seem to shut out the world. A lot of the time I feel that I have little choice in the matter and that the universe is conspiring against me. However, the ugly truth is that I made my life this way.
Before I started writing again I questioned my life and where I was heading. After I finished undergrad my life as an independent adult began and it wasn’t at all what I expected or wanted it to be. I had separated from my boyfriend of five years and as a single young adult I felt that my life would be a party, full of nights out with friends and traveling across the world. But the harsh reality was that was not my life. I had debt and made little money and I couldn’t do those things. The saddest part for me was that the people in my life didn’t want to do those things. People had jobs, they were planning weddings, and having babies. I felt more isolated than ever and honestly, disappointed. Not at the fact that I didn’t have a boyfriend or that those things weren’t happening in my life, but I didn’t like that I was losing the people around me to the busyness of life and how I was forced to figure out what my life would be like without them.
During this period, I spent a lot of time alone trying to figure out who I was and what made me happy. Then one day I saw the journal that my friend had given me on my birthday when we were in college and I remembered how much I loved writing., I also remembered how I forgot about writing once I entered college and the demands of a challenging major and personal relationships took up most of my time. I was so overwhelmed with emotion. When I finally sat down to write I felt like all of the weight I had been carrying, all of my hurt, anger, and frustration had finally left me. There was a peaceful place within me that had been hidden to myself, outshined by being too busy, or feeling too sorry for myself. In that moment, I made the decision that writing would never again take a backseat to the imposing demands that people and things place on my life, it would be at the forefront. Writing gives me peace. It brings me excitement. It fills a void and it gives me clarity of mind. It has shown me parts of myself that I didn’t even know existed. And now as I write this post I can feel the veil of demands lifting.
What is essential? Writing is essential, at least for me. And when I write I’m not busy, I’m productive because I am finding ways to live a better life, ways to live a less complicated life, in the words.
If you’re like me and you feel that writing illuminates, reveals, grants peace, and purpose to your life then writing is essential.