I fancy myself a writer, of sorts. I love the written word, I love to express myself with words and I cannot pass a bookstore without admiring the sea of books and contemplating how I might join the club.
In my mind I write everyday, the great novel, the family history, a great expose… I have done it all and none. The time was never right to write.
There are so many obstacles, so much overthinking, so many excuses.
Who wants to read that?
You can’t say that
I am raising a family (done)
I need to clean the house
I need to paint the kitchen
I could list them endlessly, at that I am very good.
But maybe the time has come, to get down to it. write something.
Because the denial, the fear, the procrastination in the writing corner of my life are permeating the the rest of my life as well. It creeps forward like ivy clinging to a brick wall and has a death grip that is hard to budge. Like Ivy, I can cut it down, but to really remove it, I must get to the roots. That’s where it starts.
I think that the root is that I never really planned for anything in my life (something that I now being much older and wiser, I own). I just let life happen, oh sure I made some choices along the way good and bad. But frankly, I planned for none of it.
That in itself is a choice, I know. That’s why choosing to write is almost like planning. I mean I plan vacations, dinners, parties… That I can do, but plan a life changing event, like being published, well never.
So as I have become complacent with writing, so have I in my life. I have let the mundane replace the zest in life. Somewhere along the way (pandemic, getting older, winter, take your pick of the demon) I gave in to complacency and let routine win. I have become a creature of habit, doing the same things methodically day in and day out. I have lost my fun gene. Trust me, I need some fun.
I have forgotten how to enjoy the world. Instead I worry about everything, things I can control, things I can’t. I do it all. For everyone.
I long for adventure and spontaneous living. I long for the days of “let’s do it” with no warning or planning. That true live for today style. I am not talking about cataclysmic changes, just not being routine. I am tired of living like the “time to make the donuts” man. It’s exhausting and leaves me with no energy. While spontaneous leaves me full of energy and excited for what the day might bring.
Now how do you incorporate spontaneous into a deeply regimented life? In little bites. Drive a different way home, stop on the way home, eat ice cream for dinner, stop and visit a friend, take a Sunday drive, explore, take a walk, do something artistic (write?), immerse yourself in something live (theatre, art, music). Make a change.
I having been thinking for 2 months about my word for the year, remember back in January it was a thing? I finally have decided that mine is “Spontaneous”. I am going to challenge myself to be more open to spontaneous opportunities, to say yes.
Beginning with writing.