I had an email from a reader a few weeks back asking me where I find the words to write what I write. The writer also wanted to know where I find the strength to write what I write, where I find the time to write what I write, and where I find the heart to carry on writing what I write if life is a continuous challenge. The reader phrased her questions differently, of course, but after reading the email several times, I thought, who could ask for more perfect blog topics?
All were good questions, which I thought I had more or less addressed over the last year in one way or another but after a glass of wine and a mental archival review I decided why not answer her questions one at a time. I filed the email in my cluttered mind thinking I’d come back around to the questions in a couple of days.
Days piled up behind the email and then others arrived after hers requiring immediate attention. Then there was the on going search for an agent, the writing time allocated to the twice weekly Blog posts, the reading of other Blogs, the work on the new WIP, the career that funds the hosting bill for Passionate Pursuits, pays for pedicures and other necessary sundries, and wasted fragments of minutes allocated on breathing and sleeping. In short, I forgot about the questions until this morning when I was deciding on the song of the week—the song of the week sets the theme for week’s posts—and remembered the email.
Where I find the strength to write what I write…
- It wasn’t when I lost a childhood friend to cancer,
- It wasn’t when my heart broke into pieces watching my first love walk out the door
- It wasn’t when I watched my friend, Frank, lose his battle with AIDS,
- It wasn’t when I said I do,
- It wasn’t when I held my first born,
- It wasn’t touching down on US soil after living abroad for too many years,
- It wasn’t when I found true passion in the arms of man not my forever after destiny,
- It wasn’t the first time an editor wrote me telling me she was publishing my piece,
- It wasn’t when I dropped my daughter off at college, said good bye, and watched her run with delight into the arms of her destiny without ever looking back at me,
- It wasn’t when the light left my father’s eyes,
- It wasn’t when I received the first impersonal rejection letter from an agent
- It wasn’t when Oprah didn’t read my poem, A Woman’s Spirit
No it wasn’t these astounding firsts, although each fortified my steely resolve and helped me get to where I am now.
Where strength and I collided…
- When I recognized that I was beautifully flawed,
- When I appreciated my own self as a priceless painting hanging on a bare wall of my inner art gallery,
- When I gave way to reckless abandonment,
- When I had faith in tomorrows,
- When I learned to trust in every moment before the one I was in,
- When I stopped doubting who I always was,
- When I stopped neglecting myself (it’s OK to put yourself first once and while, trust me on this one),
- When I caught a glimpse of myself in the dirty storefront windows and the eyes looking back at me were mine, only wiser
- When I saw my lost hope, dreams, and wishes made with tossed coins into fountains still waiting for me to make them a reality,
- When I wasn’t afraid of failure or failing,
But the moment I embraced my inner Xena, was the moment I found my voice to write what I wanted and followed my heart.
Where were you when you found your inner Xena?
Thanks to K, at Bloggit Write, for sharing Hold On by Alabama Shakes. It’s fitting for this week’s theme.