So I’m at this conference–a conference I have been to for many years in a row. To some extent, this gig has become old hat. Which explains, perhaps, my surprise that something feels different today–something feels new. It wasn’t until I was sitting down with an editor to discuss a potential book project that it dawned on me: in all the shifts that are taking place in my life, professionally and personally, a space is opening up for me to get back into a discipline of writing.
And it wasn’t until some time later, walking back to my hotel this afternoon, that the irony of this “revelation” struck me: Hey–what do you think you have been doing every single day for the past three months? I haven’t bothered doing a word count since Day 59, but it’s got to be upwards of 45,000 words I’ve produced, one day at a time. That sounds like a discipline of writing to me!
The point is: from a very young age, I have always enjoyed writing. I did not think I would be writing academic material at the age of 12, that’s for sure, but I knew that I wanted to work with words. And I have done that for a long time.
But for the last couple of years, I would say that the administrative portion of my current job has slowly started to outweigh the creative and scholarly component. Sure, I enjoy some aspects of administration, but I have missed the writing.
So now I am writing, and the writing is opening up other opportunities to write more.
So what am I reconnecting with today? Myself, I suppose–or at least one facet of who I am.
I want to write too, I just never give myself the time to actually do it. Good for you!
Little steps, remember–right? What would happen if you were to carve out just 20 minutes each morning for writing? Or 20 minutes before bed?