September 9, 2016 by Heather
I haven’t written anything, like actually written anything, in a long time. I did an update about Oliver’s birthday, I posted a little blurb about how bad summer sucks (it continues to suck), and I posted a few pictures of my house on a particularly crazy afternoon a few weeks ago. Easy and quick things to somewhat justify my paying yearly for the domain name. Even Oliver’s one year post was churned out quickly, like ripping a bandaid off because if I did it slowly it would hurt too much.
My lack of writing is not due to a lack of wanting to write — I always want to write, even when the words and phrases come out slowly. I listened to a great podcast this week while driving to/from school, You Make It Weird with Pete Holmes, where he had a conversation with author Elizabeth Gilbert. There is some colorful language in it, and I don’t super agree with everything they discussed, but the majority of it struck a chord with me. At one point she quoted a friend of hers, who asked, “What are you willing to give up in order to do/be/have what you want?” In other words, how am I proactively creating space in my life for the things that matter most to me? And, before I can do that, what even are the things that matter most to me, outside of my family and friends and God? What the heck am I doing, and why?
I am craving space so much right now. It is more than a craving, really. It’s become an obsession that results in me pulling everything out of the kitchen cabinets and hallway closet and toy boxes and dresser drawers to fill Goodwill boxes and, you guessed it, create space in those areas. Our walls have a fraction of the stuff hanging on them that they used to. The shelves no longer have little knick knacks and whatnot sitting there for looks. I got rid of half of the contents of my closet this past Spring. It’s such a trendy concept, “The Magic Art of Tidying Up” or whatever (yes, I read it), but getting rid of what does not serve me feels really, really good. Not to replace those holes or hangers with new things, necessarily, but to just have less stuff. Creating space. Andrew thinks I’ve gone nuts.
I guess I am hoping all of this physical space will somehow translate into some extra head space, because that’s why I’m not writing. It’s not that I don’t have the time — I could find the time. It’s because whenever I do have a spare hour, my brain is too full for my thoughts to move around freely. It’s like mind constipation. I’ve thought about making it more of a discipline and writing everyday, using writing prompts or something to get things flowing, and maybe I will. It makes sense to practice writing, to practice creating head space. Be more intentional about it. I think I’ll try it for a while and see what happens.
I’m not going to be sharing the majority of my posts on Facebook anymore after this one, for a few reasons. It feels too public and loud and obnoxious, and I don’t want to add to the mess. Sharing blog posts on Facebook has also gotten me in trouble, and if I had not shared my blog on there it probably would have never been an issue. I want to turn this back into a more personal space where I have creative freedom and don’t feel pressured to make every post “matter” or take some sort of stance or be so heavily censored that I annoy myself in the process. I will be able write more frequently and more freely, and those are both very good things.
I’ll still be here, more often and more authentically. Stop by from time to time. Or don’t, your call. xoxo