I often feel as if there’s time to live life OR write about it… not both.
But recently I’ve realized just how much writing has taken a back seat to other things in my life, and it has had a detrimental effect. It reminds me of a book I read long ago… Papa’s Daughter, by Thyra Ferre Bjorn. “Button”, had a passion for writing. That burning desire was all but smothered for a number of years, but it smoldered in her spirit and almost consumed her in its demand for fulfillment.
As many young moms have discovered, it’s hard to justify the time spent on writing when there are little ones to care for. That was my experience as our children began to fill our home. When our fourth child, Vicki, was born in 1988, our oldest was not yet six years old. Ian decided to make a way for me to get off by myself and do something just for me. Only a couple of hours once a week, but it was a wonderful oasis in time. I chose to go the church where he was pastor, and let myself in with his key. I would go to the nursery and sit down at the table and write for two hours. I had the baby with me, and the church was so cold we had to keep our coats on, but it was just the quiet and calm I needed. Until then, I didn’t know how much I missed writing. But life got in the way, and before many months had passed, I’d slid back into my non-writing life again.
“Button” was a young mom of two daughters when she stopped writing. No one knew why she slipped into a form of depression — an agitated state that led to insomnia and night flights, when she would take the car keys and drive endlessly. Nothing anyone did for her made any difference. Until one day she happened to mention to her doctor that she used to fancy herself a writer. He picked up on the unspoken message, and wrote her a “prescription” — to write a letter to him every day without fail. It wasn’t many weeks before she didn’t have to follow that prescription any more, because it had worked its magic and healing, and she had returned to her characteristic sunny self.
Writing is my passion… my burning desire. My husband says I live to write. That’s why it’s been so hard for me, these past six years when I haven’t been able to write the way I used to. I am an introvert, so I naturally find it hard to SAY how I feel. If I also cannot express myself in writing, that’s an indication that something is wrong. Very wrong.
That’s why I’ve started this new blog — my writing blog. At first, I may share a lot of stories or memories I wrote years ago and stored on my hard drive. But as the weeks pass, I hope I’ll be writing more and more new things, as I get back into the place where it’s more comfortable for me to do so.
Right now my life is crowded with a lot of fragmented things that need to be either culled out or sorted and filed in the right places. I’m looking forward to getting back to the Real Me again!
Please join me in my writing journey by visiting my new blog, Words by Wrose. See you there!
© Willena Flewelling