From Fragments to Wholeness

I've been having a struggle lately.. with categories. This is odd for me since I have been a chronic compartmentalizer since as far back as I can remember. As a child, when I put away my toys I put like things together. When I started keeping a journal as a tween, I divided my journals into sections - school, home, boys, etc.. The tendency followed me into adulthood, and explains why I have three blogs, six email addresses. I have even been known to categorize people. In my mind I have always equated this behavior with being organized and, if I'm honest, it's also about control. Compartmentalizing, I believed, brought order to my potentially chaotic life.Don't get me wrong, there is nothing wrong with categorizing. It is necessary and it has its benefits. The problem is in becoming  obsessive about it, as I surely was.

Recently I was asked what type of writing I do. I hesitated for a moment then replied, "Well, if I had to categorize it... I'd say I write Christian fiction." Even as I said it, I was uncomfortable.Not because I have anything against the genre, because I don't. The thought of being pigeonholed into one genre of writing has always been a fear of mine because I have never believed creativity has limits. I am very zealous about my creative freedom, so I have been reluctant to put a label on my writing. [Note to self: next time it comes up, I'm going to say, "Oh, I'm an eclectic writer."]

I have no idea why, but I'm very different in my writing life than I am in the other areas of my life. This started  me thinking about why that might be and whether or not it was time to make some changes. In the weeks that followed, I started to reevaluate my "compartmentalizing tendencies." After years and years, it finally dawned on me that those categories I have tired so hard to maintain represent the fragments that make up the whole me. By separating them, I may have had the illusion of control and organization, but in actually I  limiting myself and infringing on my own right to just "be" - if that makes sense.

And so I have started the process of integrating the components I have kept separate for so long because, after all, they are all me. My faith, my creativity, my journey to health - they are all me. They don't exist in a vacuum and I refuse to continue to treat them as such any longer. As I think about what this is all going to look like when I'm done, I am excited about the transformation ahead of me. As I remove the limits I've placed on myself, I look forward to a greater degree of freedom and creativity. I can't wait!

Don't Go Speed Your Time Away

   
     As long as I can remember I've had a bad habit of wishing I was somewhere other than where I was at that moment. When I was little I wished I was big, when I was with family I wished I was with friends... I've since stopped doing it - maybe because I'm older now. Well, I've stopped in all but one area. I still find myself wishing I was somewhere writing while I'm at work! Horrible I know, but it's the truth.

     Don't get me wrong, I actually like what I do, but is it my passion? Not hardly! I normally do a pretty good job at staying focused and being productive, but every once in a while my mind wanders to that teenage fantasy of sitting at my desk or kitchen table in a sweatshirt, leggings and slouch socks (Ooh, I may have just dated myself!) cranking out my latest book or an article on my laptop while the cat naps peacefully at my feet... Never mind  that I don't own a cat!

     The fact is this: by the time I get home after 9 hours of pouring into someone else's dream, fighting through and hour and fifteen minute commute one way, dropping off and picking up, I'm shot! I don't feel like looking at a computer. I don't feel creative in the least. The weekends come and go before I get settled in good... It's quite a quandary it is.

     The reality is that not working is not an option for me right now. Not only does it lack wisdom at this stage in my life, but it would surely have me, my laptop, AND my imaginary cat out on the street!! So, my plan is to keep working and to make time, even if it's once a week, to WRITE; to use those rare 'spare' moments to WRITE; to look for outside opportunities to showcase my writing until the writing becomes my main source of income. I'm still ironing out what that's going to look like exactly, but it's not like I haven't got the time. Hey, and in the mean time, I may just get a cat before it's all said and done!

Writers Write...

I always feel a little guilty when I hear fellow writer's use the phrase, "writers write." I mean, it's true enough, but it always triggers the nagging doubt that I manage to keep hidden most of the time. The inner voice that questions, "Are you sure you are meant to be a writer?"

I have been in workshops with writers I love and admire and heard them tell of waking up at ungodly hours to  crank out a chapter or two BEFORE work! What? Or burning the midnight oil to do the same. Not! I would leave these sessions calling my own commitment into question. Truth be told, some days it's all I can do to wake up when the alarm goes off at 4:30, stumble out the door get to work by 7, work for 9 hours, stumble back into the house and try to fit in some things before I fall into bed to do it all over again... Days go by when my pen never touches the paper or my fingers don't touch the keys. Does that mean writing is not important to me? That I am less than dedicated? That I am less of a writer somehow? Because I am not writing at a set time every single day does that necessarily make me less committed to completing my work? For those who would say "yes," I have to disagree.

Yes, writers write, but it may look different for you than it does for me. I may get a chorus to a song while stuck in traffic on the way to or from work and jot it down in black eyeliner onto a crumpled envelope. The idea for a scene in the novel I've been working on may come to me when I'm brushing my teeth and I pause to write it down. My method is not the most organized for sure. There is no apparent rhyme or reason, but it works for me... for now anyway. As I remain open to those idea moments the ideas continue to come. As I piece them together the tapestry they weave is a thing of beauty; a story that I allowed to flow through the available spaces in my life. I am so OK with that.

So yes, writers write, but the process is as individual as the writer himself/herself. My friend A writes to music, T prefers quiet, while I tune out the noise around me and write anywhere. The end product is the same - a beautiful piece of writing. Writers write indeed!