I arise in the morning torn between a desire to improve the world and a desire to enjoy the world. This makes it hard to plan the day. –E.B. White
This year, it was important to me to put out content during the holiday break. I’d made a promise to myself to publish one blog post a week, and I was not going to let Christmas stop me from keeping up my side of the bargain.
While I believe that downtime during the festive season is necessary for recharging, the Christmas break is never relaxing for me. In between the shopping, errands, gift-wrapping, cooking, cleaning, visiting, over-eating and drinking, and the retraining for my youngest (who was confused and overstimulated by all the partying), I can never catch a break — let alone be recharged by it.
When I hadn’t looked at my blog in 6 days, and knowing we were due to be at a beach town come Boxing Day, it was clear my agenda was in control of me.
With each phone notification of new content from folks that I follow on social media, I grew more and more antsy. I was scheduled to publish my weekly blog post in a matter of hours and there I was, sitting in the recliner in my youngest’s room (coming up to two hours of trying to get him to go to sleep), ready to admit defeat.
If I broke my promise to myself, what did that say about my commitment level? And when New Year’s Eve rolled around, would I break my promise again?
I was annoyed at myself for not being more organised and making excuses was the the last thing I wanted to do. Unlike the writers and entrepreneurs that inspire me. They plan for the breaks. (Some even double the content they put out over this time.) I should have been proactive and had an unpublished holiday post at the ready.
Comparisons don’t serve a purpose and I could feel that I was placing too much emphasis on what others are doing to get themselves out there. But, I’d made a decision to find myself an audience and even though my start had made little impact, I had started nonetheless, and I didn’t want to jeopardise my momentum.
No Matter What
A family member said to me: don’t be so hard on yourself, It’s Christmas.
But isn’t that the difference between a serious writer and a hobbyist? It’s the difference between what I am trying to be, and what I am trying to break away from.
Is it wrong that I want to have a “no matter what” attitude when it comes to my writing or should I be cutting myself some slack? Showing up each week, come rain, shine or Christmas, is what I’d expect from a writer who is trying to build and maintain trust with her readers . . .
Despite my fatigue, it was around 11pm when I got my butt in my chair, ignoring that I was behind in schedule, and began to write the shell of a post. Two hours later, my boy was unsettled again, and it was time for me to hit the lights, rather than hit publish. I was nowhere near ready and I’d wanted to keep going. My boy needed his mama however, and even if I were a fully fledged entrepreneur, that would still be the executive decision that I’d make.
My mind wandered to the following morning; it was going to be a mad rush to load the car for a four-day beach holiday. I had to accept that my post wasn’t going out this week. I didn’t even want to go on this trip — I craved downtime.
We arrived at Port Elliot. I brought my iPad, still hopeful for my blog post. Better late than never, I told myself, as I picked my room and tried to continue where I’d left off. I had a view of the southern hills and a whiff of the sea, and my parents were around to help out with the kids. I was determined to finish the post.
I did write, but wasn’t happy with the piece. What I was feeling, what I had written and what I wanted the reader to take away was not the same thing. I left it alone, unsure how to fix it.
Then I was forced to come out for a walk at dusk. Through a pathway that ran between the houses, and over the road, and down the steps with logs for rails, a scenic masterpiece awaited me. Creamy light glazed over the brown sugar sand. The foamy waves across the ocean reminded me of cake frosting, and a pink ribbon had seemingly been woven through the endless Port Elliot sky.
God had greeted me with open arms.
One look at all of this and I was recharged. It was about thirty minutes of heaven, but it was all I needed. Quality downtime.
I took a deep breath, a huge smile across my face because I understood how to make my blog post gel together.
The Rhythm of Life
I had forgotten that good writing can be born out of chaos and out of harmony, and out of the cracks in between. The universe has a time and place for everything, even if you don’t see where or how the pieces fit within a schedule.
Some people have a knack for thriving and creating in a state of disarray, but if you’re not like that, all you can do is ride the wave. It’s patience that will help get you to where you need to be.
[share-quote author=”” via=”iamgenevra”] Some people have a knack for thriving and creating in a state of disarray, but if you’re not like that, all you can do is ride the wave. It’s patience that will help get you to where you need to be.[/share-quote]
I’d been concerned about inconsequential matters; it’s not about the difference between seriousness and a hobby, and it’s not about what happens if I don’t publish weekly. It’s also futile to think that I am entitled to a writing routine without interruption — there is hardly a place for this with motherhood.
Waiting for the rhythm of life to change to suit me only brings about frustration. I need to remember that the words are always with me and I just need to teach myself how to bring them out no matter what is going on around me, break or no break.
This was the clarity I needed, which only came when I remembered the importance of balance during a moment of much-needed patience.
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