I want to write every day, but there are so many other
things I want to be doing too. How do we deal with this? How do we progress in
our crafts when we have too many crafts or hobbies? I’m still trying to decode
the secret. Somewhere in life’s encrypted rules there must be instructions for
this, right?
Until we find it [and I expect a prompt message if you
already have the answer], let’s look at our options. We can (1) aimlessly wander and hope we end up somewhere
decent. We can (2) take aim and plot a destination and try not to get “distracted.” Or we can (3) take aim and plot a course along the way with deadlines and benchmarks
leading to our desired destination.
The greater majority of us aimlessly wander around for a
while hoping to get somewhere magical. I know I did. I wandered because I didn’t
know what I wanted. I spent many years being tossed through the air like a
tumble weed, never really getting anywhere. To this day, I only understand
pieces of what I want. A home, a family, and to do the things I love. I even
spent one summer soul searching what it IS that I LOVE. Imagine how ridiculous
that felt; I was almost 25 years old.
In the end, I determined that music and writing were
integral parts of who I am. I am not happy without both of these elements in my
life. Years later, I still have people trying to get a “which one could you not
live without” from me. The answer is neither. I wasn’t kidding when I said, I
need them both. To live without music feels like my soul shriveling up and to
never write is like losing your voice and your hope.
I use to write poetry. One day, poetry no longer filled the
need inside me and I began writing lyrics. None of those lyrics have been put
to music, and I sometimes wonder if they’ll be like my poetry—lost in the past.
But the past paved our path to where we are now. Those bricks laid in poetry
and unsung lyrics mark the direction for my future.
Lately, I hear the little girl inside me rising up and
saying, “Write the worlds in your head. I’m tired of this place. I want to go
somewhere new. You should come with me.” And I just can’t tell her, “no.”
Thankfully, with age comes some degree of wisdom. I’ll not
be tossed about on a ship I cannot steer. I will commandeer this vessel and
mark our course. My little one deserves new worlds and unknown adventures and stories
never told. I’ll give them to her and to all who wish it. The child within us
sees the vast map of stars pinned down to the tabletop, while the rest of us
see a schedule and work for the coming year. The journey will be as tedious or
as wondrous as we make it. What shores will you find yourself on this New Year?
