It feels as if I haven't posted on my blog in ages. I was surprised to see I wrote something Friday. Imagine. I write and I forget.
What I've been doing these last couple days is cleaning my office, which is also my main writing space (besides my bed). I am thinking ahead and I want to be ready when September rolls in and my writing life, the one that includes an actual *writing schedule* begins again. Right now, I email an occasional poem to a friend or write an essay late at night when the house sleeps. My writing is not consistent or scheduled. It's sort of a late-night snack or spontaneous rendezvous with a lover who may or may not show up.
And that's okay in the summer, in fact, that's how I always write in the summer. In the summer, writing moves to the far wall and becomes the potted plant I occasional water. Writing, at this time of the year, feels very unfocused. Ask me what I'm working on in the summer and you could get an answer like, "my tan" or "growing peppers."
I've never been a good summertime writer. I see my life on the school schedule September through May. June, July, & August are months to forget goals, schedules, details, and just allow life to flow as it needs to. This is good for me. I'm a Capricorn who loves a good schedule. I like not writing because it creates an urge to write.
For me, summer is a time to see the sun again and soak up some vitamin D. I have huge stacks of books from the library that I read in the shade or keep on my nightstand. And since I'm not writing, it's a good time to get organized, especially on the rainy days, which we seem to be having quite a few of these days.
While I cleaned I was thinking about my life and my writing. I'll probably post more on this later, but it always seems to come back to "balance." Maybe it's a mother/writer issue, or maybe not. Maybe writers who work full time have this issue in different ways. And writers who teach I know work on this. I find it interesting how we can fit all this other junk into our lives--internet, television, insert current time-waster here_______-- and yet, struggle with finding the time to write. But more on that later...
My office is open to new happy energy now. The closet doors can remain open because I'm no longer ashamed of how my books are stacked on the floors next to years of journals. Or that pile of letters. And the box of ginormous envelopes, who needs so many huge envelopes? They have been cleaned out. My writing desk is ready. It just needs me now to complete the job. And I will. Later...
