Seeing as most of north America is under a blanket of snow and cold, it only seems appropriate to curl up with a good book before an open fire, or write one.
Of course there is this essential thing called 'work', at least the one which pays the money and keeps the horse in shoes, but fortunately the work has calmed down somewhat.
A good friend told me the other day to 'take my life back'. Those four small words stopped me in my tracks, because there have been 'things' which have prevented me from writing. Not mere prevarication but exhaustion, minor health issues, and of course the ever constant on my mind, Rich. Every time I sat at the computer, instead of writing what was in my head, I froze up and played mindless games of solitaire or stared at FB. I wanted to write but I just couldn't seem to put pen to paper.
Then came those four words and I thought, you've been letting others rule your life, if you really wanted to write you'd do it through tiredness, past Rich's memories and, yes, do what you really want.
One of my minor health issues has been stress, which can manifest in all sorts of annoying ways. I say 'minor' because there are far worse things to cope with. Outwardly much of the time I can wing it but then I might come home and have a meltdown. Yes that is still grief rearing its head, and it will for some time to come, but I was letting it rule me. As I was letting work rule me, telling myself I was too damned tired to write or ride my horse etc etc.
Some vitamin B12, some rooibos tea and a couple of days off and it is amazing how different the world can look. Attitude can change so much. My mother has always been one of my inspirations. She had bowel cancer and when she was told she only had days to live she looked up at the doctor and said, But I haven't seen my grandchildren yet. And she defied cancer for over ten years.
If I am going to honour Rich's memory then indeed I should write, because that was indeed something he wanted me to do. He loved my stories. He even took them into a war zone where the printed out pages are probably fluttering across an Afghan desert. I rather like that image. Some tribesman shaking his head over some weird English science fiction and knowingly nodding that all westerners are mad.
So I wrote over six thousand words over two days. I won't be that productive every day because, yes, I do work outside as well. But it's a start after a long gap. Now it is just a matter of getting to the finish.
Of course there is this essential thing called 'work', at least the one which pays the money and keeps the horse in shoes, but fortunately the work has calmed down somewhat.
A good friend told me the other day to 'take my life back'. Those four small words stopped me in my tracks, because there have been 'things' which have prevented me from writing. Not mere prevarication but exhaustion, minor health issues, and of course the ever constant on my mind, Rich. Every time I sat at the computer, instead of writing what was in my head, I froze up and played mindless games of solitaire or stared at FB. I wanted to write but I just couldn't seem to put pen to paper.
Then came those four words and I thought, you've been letting others rule your life, if you really wanted to write you'd do it through tiredness, past Rich's memories and, yes, do what you really want.
One of my minor health issues has been stress, which can manifest in all sorts of annoying ways. I say 'minor' because there are far worse things to cope with. Outwardly much of the time I can wing it but then I might come home and have a meltdown. Yes that is still grief rearing its head, and it will for some time to come, but I was letting it rule me. As I was letting work rule me, telling myself I was too damned tired to write or ride my horse etc etc.
Some vitamin B12, some rooibos tea and a couple of days off and it is amazing how different the world can look. Attitude can change so much. My mother has always been one of my inspirations. She had bowel cancer and when she was told she only had days to live she looked up at the doctor and said, But I haven't seen my grandchildren yet. And she defied cancer for over ten years.
If I am going to honour Rich's memory then indeed I should write, because that was indeed something he wanted me to do. He loved my stories. He even took them into a war zone where the printed out pages are probably fluttering across an Afghan desert. I rather like that image. Some tribesman shaking his head over some weird English science fiction and knowingly nodding that all westerners are mad.
So I wrote over six thousand words over two days. I won't be that productive every day because, yes, I do work outside as well. But it's a start after a long gap. Now it is just a matter of getting to the finish.
RSS Feed