Not doing the thing we want to do…
I am an introverted person and one thing which stems from that is a lot of time reflecting on, well everything. It can be quite draining at times.
Part of me wishes I could turn it off, spending at least half an hour journalling each morning isn’t an efficient use of time and it doesn’t seem to make a difference.
Until I stop doing it that is. It seems to be one of my core practices, without which I fall apart within a week or so. I ended up in a major depression earlier this year because I didn’t feel like I should be wasting my morning time by doing yoga, meditating and praying and journalling. Apparently my morning routine is something which keeps me well and healthy.
There is a theme I have been exploring at length in my journal over the past year or more. I have an urge to write, a strong, powerful urge. That’s why I am blogging so frequently again, because I feel lost without it. But I also want to write something bigger. I have notebooks of notes I have taken from books, I have pages of notes on novels, or at least short stories and yet something seems to be stopping me from doing it.
I’m not sure where this urge to write has come from. Looking back ten-fifteen years it certainly wasn’t there, but then I was in a job which was deeply unsuited to me, struggling to live in a corporate world, I was very unhappy. So I suspect all my spare energy was going on surviving.
Now that I am in a good marriage, with a lovely family and work I love I have mental energy to spare to look at what I do want to do. I’ve had this desire to write, but I just don’t get on and do the writing. I have the time – straight after my morning routine is an excellent time, the house is quiet and there are no expectations. Ooh, interesting – did you notice the past tense at the start of the sentence before that – ‘I’ve had this desire’. Hmm, I wonder if that is something subconscious…
I have the ideas too, in fact right now I have several things that I can be working on. So why aren’t I doing it? I have a coach to help me, and that doesn’t seem to be changing anything either.
In the meantime I keep beating myself up for not writing. I have read all of the books on how to write, listen to podcasts etc. But then, aside from this, I don’t write. Is it that I’m not that fussed about my ideas enough to commit to them for the time it takes to write something substantial?
I have plenty of other creative outlets, I play the flute and the ukulele, and I got a piano for Christmas that I would love to learn to play. I took part in Sketchbook Skool a while a go and I greatly enjoyed that, so I could go back to drawing. I’m also a photographer too and I am working towards my first exhibition right now.
But there is a part of me who thinks I should be writing – and I do a fair bit of it for my client work and copy-writing is something that I offer. But I should be a novelist. And yet I’m still not doing the work.
So, maybe I could cut myself some slack and just write here, because I enjoy it and hopefully, over time other people will enjoy it too. And in the meantime keep doing my other creative work and let go of the idea of writing.