Day: January 30, 2009

The other day I was putting something away in our coat closet, when I realized that the though of just stepping inside the closet and closing the door was very appealing to me. Similarly, several times this week I’ve come home from some errand and spent a few minutes just sitting in the car. Sitting in the car is quiet and no one needs me to do anything. The feelings did not make much sense, because while my life this week is busy, my life is always busy. If my life is ever not busy, I’m sure I find a way to make it busy because I like having many things to do. The busy-ness of this week is no more stressful than the busy-ness of any other week. Nothing is high stakes. Nothing is particularly urgent. It is all the one-thing-after-anotherness of daily living.

Last night it really clicked for me why I have this desire to hide in the closet. I have been stretching myself and meeting needs without taking time to do the things that make me feel whole. Or rather, I’d somehow disconnected the emotional rewards from the things that make me whole. I was at a discussion group last night with five other mothers. I’d been asked to talk about my writing projects and how doing them is a help to me and to our family. As I began, I was not quite sure what to say because lately it has all felt like necessary business rather than soul-healing enjoyment. It was so good for me to be in that discussion, to see the things that I do through these other pairs of eyes. They asked how I find time for the blogging I do, and I did not have a ready answer. All of the writing and blogging have become so much a part of my life that I do not even see them as unusual. But to these other women, it was unusual. And realizing that, I was better able to see once again how much I love what I do. My blogging and my fiction are turned to many purposes in my life and in the lives of others, but first and foremost they make me whole. Somehow I had disconnected that. Now I just need to hold onto it. I need to remember that my writing has intrinsic value to me no matter what anyone else thinks of it. Sometimes my desire for affirmation leads me to seek from others the approval I should be giving to myself. And this does not only apply to writing, but to any activity which makes me whole.