As a single mother to five children ranging in ages from two to nineteen years of age, most things happen for me in one of two ways – by schedule or by demand. Time is at a premium so I tend to ‘bottom-line’ everything. My son, Tyler, will come home from school and launch into an epic explanation of why the sole of one of his shoes is hanging by a thread. I usually interrupt and ask for the bottom line which is, of course, that he needs new shoes. At the end of the day it doesn’t matter how the shoes got ruined, what does matter is that they need replacing.
This cut-to-the-chase mentality has wormed its way into practically every area of my life. I used to adore reading. I’d spend hours investing my heart and mind into fleshy characters and addictive plots but a few months ago I started reading a book, got three or four chapters into it and flick to the end of the book and read the last few chapters to see how it ended. I hate that the journey has become superfluous. Not only am I robbing myself of life’s small treasures but I am seriously limiting my ability to be creative.
For every writer there is a price to pay for their creativity. Being able to create characters and stories that enlighten and entertain involves allowing ourselves to feel what our characters feel. We must root around in still-moist wounds until we can express the truth of the human condition in an authentic manner. If we try to fake it we are showing nothing but disrespect for the reader. So how then do we, do I, find time and all the other essential conditions for creativity when my life is scheduled so fully that the only time I have to write is if and when I sacrifice a night’s sleep?
A tired brain is not good soil for growing and nurturing creativity so I feel like its a lose/lose situation. I am never alone between the hours of 5 a.m and midnight and weekend and holidays are worse. I have taken my coffee and hidden behind the garage just to have silence for ten minutes so then how on earth can I relax enough to allow the creativity to juice?
I know it sounds like I am complaining and I am! I want so much to allow my brain to spark and arc. I ache to write something meaningful and worthy. I am head over heels in love with writing but I am committed elsewhere. As much as I need to write I need to honor my children more. It is they who have shown me the utter glory of newness I see in the changing seasons, it is they that remind me to see with fresh eyes and to forget to be stale. I may not have time to put my stories down on paper but every day with them writes a new chapter in my heart. I am so thankful I have something to complain about.
No comments:
Post a Comment