This Writer’s Life—Breathing Room & Stillness

by Melissa Corliss DeLorenzo

Photo by Andre Lubbe

My writing life has taken a turn recently. Time and space has opened up a bit. Or maybe it’s ritual and practice. Most likely it is a combination of both. It’s still a challenge to get everything done, but there seems to be just a little more wiggle room. My children, while still small and in high need of my attention, are just a little more self-sufficient. They are also very busy people. The result is that I am able to work more.

But I don’t think it’s quite so simple. I think that the practice of writing builds upon itself. Because I write more, I write more. You see?

It seems doing work begets doing work.

On the day I finished the first draft of the novel on which I am currently working, I also wrote a post for this blog, completed the normal housework, took care of my kids, cooked supper, got in forty-five minutes of yoga. I got to eight-thirty in the evening and I had nothing to do. I was done. I had the blog piece completed, the huge goal of the rough draft done and the kids were in bed. I had no idea what to do with myself. My husband told me to sit down. We watched the new version of Clash of the Titans (not as good as the original) and I sort of relaxed but felt I was just wasting the hours before bedtime. Should I get to work on some more writing? Should I write ahead for the blog? Send some emails? Get caught up on my inbox? Do some preemptive laundry?

I seriously don’t think I know how to sit still anymore. Can you lose a “skill” such as that? I suppose you can. There are worse problems to have.

Now that my time has expanded out just a little, I feel like my task will be to keep the momentum going and continue to set and meet goals. I’ve found that if I designate specific times to specific tasks and ensure that the goals are reasonable then I can meet them. It feels really good to be chasing my tail just a little less. I am still generally overwhelmed, way too busy, trying to do too much and putting altogether too much pressure on myself. I try not to get discouraged about how “I never get enough done” (this is a bad, bad mantra) and how there is never enough time. But I also feel some hope because of this little bit of breathing room.

Hope can carry you along; it is uplifting. So, maybe I’ll take some time to relearn how to be still. I am curious to see what may arise from that stillness? (Who knows? Maybe I’ll even watch a movie every now and then.)

Related posts: