And just like that, we are halfway into the year.
Have you ever had it happen where you set out with so many good intentions for a new year, and then somehow all your good intentions get overwhelming and you don’t follow through?
If you answered no, I would venture to say you’re either lying or a magical unicorn. Or both.
It’s hard to remember where I’m at in life sometimes. Not that I actually forget who I am or what my day-to-day life consists of. It’s moreso that I have these bursts of I’m going to make this happen this time, and then I quickly dwindle back into reality.
I don’t mean this to say that I don’t stick with things, either, because I do. I think what I mean to say is that there are always so many things that I want to do, sometimes I have a hard time realizing, remembering, and accepting that I can’t do them all at the exact same time.
I didn’t mean to drop a book on y’all and disappear. To my credit, I didn’t even get blog posts on here about the book. Social media and my newsletter took center stage. But I still did it, to a degree.
Writing is hard.
I don’t mean to state the obvious, but it is.
I have wanted to be a writer as long as I can remember. I used to make up poetry books and carry around notebooks and journals and just write. It didn’t matter what I wrote, really. Even if I was rewriting a story that someone had just told me from a book they read, I was still practicing bringing characters and settings to life.
There have been seasons of my life where writing was much easier. For example, before I had kids. For another example, before I had more than one kid. As our family grew, my writing time became more precious and sparse. Because we knew we wanted our family to continue to grow, it just continued on that way. But this past year, when I came to the acceptance that (at least for now) we are at a pause or stopping point in growing– I wanted to jump into my writing life again with both feet.
Along came What Did You Do With Maile?
This picture book was one I wrote around six years ago and when I saw some artwork by the wonderful Timna, all I wanted to do was have it come to life. And so it did. And I am so thankful for it and everyone who has supported it and continues to support it.
But it isn’t enough.
This one book, one project, isn’t enough. I have realized that there is a fire burning in my soul again that has really always been there. Sometimes it has been roaring, and other times it’s just been hot coals or even ashes… but it’s been there. More than anything right now, I’m trying to let it breathe so it can burn.
However, as this ramble continues on, I’m trying to recognize all I have going right now that I cannot stop.
I homeschool my four kids. (Well, three out of four but since the fourth is still home and requires plenty of attention, we’ll say four.) I’m going to start teaching four classes at the end of August to other homeschooled kids. (Animals of The World, Humanities, and two different Literature classes for kids ranging from five to eleven.) I run an Etsy shop, which granted I take breaks from whenever needed because it doesn’t have to exist. And, ya know, I do all the other things that some might roll their eyes at: cook, clean, craft, read, laundry, run errands, help friends and family… live.
I wrote my first novel before kids, but it really didn’t reach its full potential until my oldest was around two. I wrote my second novel when I was pregnant with my second child and it was the first one that felt so effortless as it spilled out.
… but since those two, no others have truly been finished. I’m not sure if it was because I had more kids or life circumstances or brain function or all of the above.
So here I am writing a post that doesn’t have much of a point and is more of a brain dump as the rest of my family sleeps because my fingers were just itching to W R I T E.
Half way through the year and I didn’t keep up my end of the deal. I haven’t blogged like I wanted to. I haven’t read as much as I wanted to. I haven’t moved forward with any writing as much as I wanted to.
But there is still time.
I think that’s always something to remember. Whether you’re fifteen or thirty-three or sixty-two– there is still time. What we need to remember is not to waste it. Take the time. Spend the time. We all have time and we choose how to use it. Use it wisely. It’s a gift. I’m going to start contradicting myself again.
Life is chaotic. I hope I can find a way to tame some of the chaos and discipline myself again to write…really write. It has been far too long.