Since I received a sharp stick to the rear, writing is once again in my viewfinder.
Remember the old ViewMaster slide viewers? As a child I had so many sets of those slides, from all my favorite Disney movies. The only way to properly see them was to practically push the ViewMaster viewer into my eye sockets, blocking out all outside light and leaving me to see only what was inside of the dark little box, backlit by the sunshine toward which it was pointed.
I feel that sometimes my view is limited to what I see directly in front of me. As a mother, my day may mosey along with nothing much happening, or it may be instances of putting out fires, so to speak, one after another. My focus is pulled in a single direction and all of my attention must be there.
I fight fires as only a parent can, and I am slow to develop any habits besides the ones I find necessary to get through each day. Go to the gym. Shower. Eat. Force teens to do chores. Housework.
Writing falls so far down my list of priorities that it barely exists. And I love to write.
How does a person develop a new habit? They say it takes 21 days. I don’t know if I can write every day for 21 days. How’s that for a defeatist attitude?
Some days it is a digging, prying, and pulling to even get a few words to come. Other days I’m going about my day and the words won’t stop, and I don’t have the time or an easy way to capture them before they disappear into the abyss that is my short term memory.
There must be a way to gather them, to force them to see a font for what it is: a reckoning. A day of birth and freedom, born to a page or a screen, it matters not but that they meet. This is my get-back-up-and-start-again. I need this. What else is a blog for?
I’ve made it a priority to write, but since I don’t have all the time all day long, my goal is to publish one post per week, on either late Wednesday night or Thursday. So far I’ve been doing well with sticking to this schedule. She can be taught!
Do you write?