I’ve been sick.
And I’m not one to go into details about my personal life on my blog—I like to stick to the writing, the journey, books/etc, but I thought it might be therapeutic to share the thoughts I’m having and how it’s affected my writing journey.
(To just give a brief back story so you all don’t think I’m dying—which I hope I’m not!—I’ve been passing out—even woke up in an ambulance a couple months ago. After an EKG, they could clearly see I have an electrical problem, so for 30 days I get to wear a heart monitor 24/7 to help discover what’s going on more fully. There are some other health issues I’m not going to go into that are associated with this, but I figured I could share that much so my thoughts below make sense)
It’s ironic that I would be struggling during NaNo of all times. As I’ve been watching others putting up ridiculous word counts, I’ve been crying because I haven’t felt my hands for days, unable to type. (Again, I only share this to help paint the picture of the last couple months)
I’m the type of person who lives in one extreme or the other. Either I completely immerse myself in a project and ignore everything until it’s done, or I don’t bother doing it. (I know, not very healthy) Like most of you, I have a need to be great. I have a need to create something amazing. I have a desire to make it happen, regardless of what the success rates are. I think that’s called being a writer.
But as I’ve had my health ripped away from me, I’ve discovered something. I don’t need to have all these things. I don’t need to be great. I don’t need to create something amazing. I only need to be here. Alive. In the present. Living. (And this is where I would get personal if I was going to, but I’ll just leave it at that…)
But I’ve also discovered something else. Through this trial, I’ve found something I’ve never found before. Balance. I’ve been writing. And it’s felt so good. But I haven’t been obsessive about it. I haven’t shut out the world when I have to get a scene done. I’ve been able to open my current WIP and enjoy it, and then put it away when other things (that are more important) need my attention.
I’ve been able to write without falling into the one-sided extreme. (Which might not seem like a huge deal, but it is for me!) So while I think NaNo is an amazing thing—and I do—I also know that it’s not healthy for a person like me. A person who constantly needs to be making sure she is finding the right balance.
So the lesson I’ve learned in the last little bit is that it’s okay not to be the best. It’s okay to not push ourselves until we die. It’s okay to find our pace and be content with ourselves. It’s okay to see other people racing ahead, but to be perfectly happy with the pace that’s right for us.
A couple months ago, I started to fall into a place where I didn’t remember why I was writing anymore. But I’ve rediscovered that reason.
And it’s simple.
It makes me happy.
So while I'm continuing to find that balance, I'm going to enjoy:
Figuring out Scrivener
Wearing green pants I'd never thought I'd wear (Because of the color--can we say Christmas elf?)Leftover Halloween treats
And the best of all... Nutcracker season!!!
Red. Head. Out. :)