Dreams are powerful things. They motivate and inspire us for action when we feel defeated; they provide hope when we are utterly hopeless. I am a person who dreams big and sets big goals. Sometimes this motivates, and other times it devastates. At the moment I am feeling pressured and crushed by my own dream to write because I realize that I have so much to say, and I worry that I won't get time to say it. I tell myself that my kids won't be little forever, and I should enjoy this phase of life, and I can write for the rest of my life. But it feels like cold comfort when I have so much to communicate right now, this moment, this day - and I can't carve out the time. I hate to wait for anything. I've improved by leaps and bounds in my desire for immediate gratification, but I know I still have a long way to go.
I don't like using my dreams as measuring sticks to see how much time I've already wasted. With writing it really doesn't work like that, because I wasn't ready before. I had to work a lot of rigid religious mumbo jumbo out of my system and boil it down to the basics: Love God. Love others. I had to get away from from the long list of do's and don't's that I was taught in childhood in order to write. Everything I put on paper before the last few years was so forced and cardboard that it became unreadable and of no use to me or anyone else. I feel as though I've been on a lifelong pursuit of truth, and have certainly not found it yet, but in the last 5 or so years I've been on the right path, and only in the last 18 months have I located the courage to communicate that truth. It feels like flying; soaring through life without the handcuffs of fear dragging me down. You can't rush these things. The words weren't ready for me to access before now. It was worth the wait.
Perhaps it all comes down to scheduling. I plan my life to the letter because I have to in order to keep my family life ticking along smoothly. I plan childcare so I can go to work, but I don't like to pay for it for writing because it's costing money without making me any money, and then there is the guilt on top of it because I'd be leaving William again for a few hours. But maybe if I invest a little child-free time in my writing I'd feel better balanced and more satisfied, and that will benefit all of us. We must believe in ourselves. Invest in our talents and really believe that we are worth the investment. As women, and mothers, we give so much of ourselves to others and then wonder why we don't have much left for ourselves. It's not selfish to take time for what gives life to us. Inspiration is a tricky thing that comes and goes - when it visits us we must take time to grab hold and ride that wave wherever it will take us. We're worth it.