Writing is so much more than simply putting pen to paper or typing up a document. It comes from our hearts and our souls. But sometimes life steps in and we simply cannot express what we hold within.
I have found from a personal stand point that when I am stressed, I can't write. Well, I can, but even when I'm with my characters, all I can dwell on is what could go wrong around me. This is for those situations where there is no right answer. When I'm stressed about issues that there is a set ending, I can still write. In fact, my characters offer me shelter from the world around, but not this time.
Being a full time employee, a full time student, a writer (which, for those of you who write know it never really shuts off), and a part time riding instructor doesn't leave much time to do anything other than pack in a full schedule. This week, with a statistics exam, I knew my ability to write was going to be limited, and I had a mental countdown for when it would all be over and I could write again. That countdown was over Thursday night, but here it is Saturday morning and the only things I've written is this blog and a handful of necessary emails.
By now, the creativity in my brain should be fit to burst. The story that sits just behind my every conscious thought should be ready to come flying out, but I have the sinking feeling that if the starting gates were to open now, I'd be left standing.
And so we circle back to stress, that horrible thing that never really leaves us. Stress about work, stress about money, stress about the current state of the economy or the potential presidential candidates. Stress is everywhere. This week's edition, though, is one instance that I cannot rationalize a way around, and I know full well that I cannot solve it in a way to make everyone happy. That, to me, is the very worst.
One of my many commitments is to a therapeutic riding organization, where every spring and fall I work with kids with disabilities to introduce the wonder of horses to them. This year, with the aforementioned schedule, I cannot carry through on all of my commitments and the stability of maintaining my job has to have precedence over everything else. If, say, Monday morning I received a wonderful book offer, I might be able to have more flexibility, but let's be honest... And so I'm stuck here, knowing that what I have decided is the best for me, and, by extension, the least painful solution for everyone involved. At the same time, however, no one can be happy. And until there is some resolution, my stories will stay trapped within, waiting for this storm to finish. Only then can we all come back to play.
No comments:
Post a Comment