I’ve meant to write an update blog for a while now. My absence from blogging has developed a nagging voice telling me ‘This is not good. You’re a writer. How can you call yourself a serious writer if you’re not slamming out a blog a week?’
Usually this type of guilt stricken thought would turn me frantic, my gears rearing up again in hopes to make up for lost time. That’s what it comes down to, after all. Whether you’re a writer or anyone trying to find their path in life, time is the one thing that will steal your joy. It tells you that in order to succeed you have to work harder, utilize every minute, and maximize your exposure at any given moment of the day. I agreed with this theory for a long time but for me things are different now. Maybe it’s the way life has been throwing me curve balls, or how certain dreams are coming to an end, but my perspective has changed.
My writing journey has mutated into a life journey. I used to think that finding my way as a writer meant fulfilling my life. Now I realize that finding my way in life means fulfilling my writing journey.
Although writing has been and always will be an essential part of who I am, I’m still growing. This process shapes and molds my writing into what it needs to be, and not the other way around. I’ve taken the past year to find myself, to heal parts of my life that need desperate attention. I’ve decided to take head on those pesky thieves that steal my joy, that determine what type of woman I am, that build up walls around me so that I can be contained. To find yourself starts with healing first. I am in the process and although hard and heartbreaking, and sometimes an overwhelmingly slow progression, I am thankful for the trial and tribulations. They thicken my skin, grant me experience, and finally begin to break down those walls. [Read More Here…]